Thirty
by American HOT Fender
Summary: "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."
1. Dirty Thirty

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

 **Housekeeping:** So I'm at it again with another little comedy. This is going to be a "short." Like maybe nine chapters at _most._ Or at least that's the way I've got it plotted. Definitely not a twenty-two chapter monster. I've been tiptoeing around writing a little story like this for awhile (You'll see what I mean once you start reading it) and...I know it's probably not going to be _as_ popular as WATO _but,_ if you liked the style of humor in that, and are cool with not sticking to HA tradition so to speak, you'll probably have a good time reading this one.

 **A/N:** There are a lot of time jumps in this, and it may seem a little fast paced, but it's necessary to kick the plot off on bad boy. It'll normalize by chapter two.

* * *

 **Dirty Thirty**

 **Friday Night.**

Mascara. Just a bit more would do...and there. Twenty-five year old Helga Pataki blinked a few times in her bathroom mirror, closing the tube and tossing it back onto the vanity before pulling back to fully examine herself. Her golden beach-blonde hair was looking great, falling in gentle waves down her shoulders, happy to be out of the messy bun of a rut she'd gotten into since becoming a teacher's assistant. It was expected. Between constantly studying for her master degree and working on campus, she hardly had time blink, much less get dolled up. Like she'd ever been one to get _dolled_ up on a regular basis to begin with. While her days as Hillwood's most notorious tomboy were firmly behind her—and for the best—she wasn't _exactly_ a Rhonda Lloyd. She had grown into her self in a girl next door sort of way, knew how to turn a few heads when she wanted to, but most of the time, she just didn't _care_. But tonight...tonight was just one of those special occasion. _The_ night.

She could feel it in her bones. Or maybe that was early onset arthritis...

But she chose to be optimistic.

She took a step back twisting one time, still trying to decide whether or not she was _feeling_ that strapless black dress or not. There was a perfectly good green one in her closet she hadn't worn in awhile too. But, against her better judgement, she decided to roll with it.

Still...she thought she looked better in green.

Ah, she was smiling again. Even looking slightly giddy. Though not overbearingly so. Except to Phoebe. She was the only one that knew of Helga's joyful speculation. That speculation being that her boyfriend of three years was _finally_ going to pop the question that night. Why did she think that? Well, for one it was a long time coming. All of their friends were getting engaged and married, Phoebe and Gerald just to name a few. He'd seemed very distracted as of lately. He'd insisted that they go to the nicest restaurant in town that night because he had something important to discuss with her. And while a lot of people would have pegged that as being anything but a good sign, they were forgetting one _very_ important thing.

That his name just happened to be Arnold Shortman, and the story of life was _literally_ written for them.

So, that might have been the writer in her making everything overly romantic. Still, it was _their_ story. The pages were turning and she couldn't wait to get to the next chapter. Their weird orbit around each other had even inspired her to begin writing a book, albeit _slowly_ , about a girl who stumbled across everybody's pre-written book for their life and attempts to change things only to discover that the stories were the way the were for a reason.

While obviously fiction, Helga herself had always bought into the notion of soul mates and pre-destination. She had no other explanation for how her and Arnold had always torpedoed into each others lives, no matter _what_. He was the Fred to her Ginger. The Sonny to her Cher. The Ken to her Barbie. It had finally come to a head after a doomed group ski trip where all of their friends had become, unfortunately plagued with a round of food poisoning—never trust sushi at a buffet...at a ski resort— leaving them the only two unscathed and able to enjoy the weekend retreat. That led to grabbing coffee afterwards and then him finally asking her out on a date.

Fast forward three years, and now they were here.

So, naturally it just made sense to her that this would be logical next step, and this was the night that it was going to happen. Her phone buzzed against the granite, Arnold alerting her via text that he was there to get her.

Helga grabbed the perfume atop the vanity and misted a bit in the air before walking through it. Spray and walk away. She liked smelling good, not like a department store. With that, she inhaled deeply and exited the bathroom and clicked down the hallway, catching her roommate Phoebe hanging out on the couch, hunched forward writing thank-you notes to everybody who had come to her and Gerald's wedding shower two weeks prior.

Yep, her friends were tying the knot in a month, and they had their stock the bar party the following night. Which was going to be great fun, both occasions, and even _better_ that she were sure she was going to get to go engaged herself.

"Good luck," Phoebe chimed, glancing up from her scribbling to give her best friend a smirk.

Helga chortled, "Thanks. What do you think about the black dress?"

"I think it looks fine. Why?"

"I was thinking I should have gone with the green."

Phoebe sat up and shrugged, "I don't know that it matters."

"Yeah," Helga finally agreed, grabbing her clutch off of the dinning room table, "It's not important," and then her car keys off of the kitchen hook despite the fact that she didn't need them. Habit really, "See ya. And don't wait up," She leaned back in and winked before dipping out the door.

* * *

She hurried down to where Arnold was parked on the curb, and scooted into his SUV. "Hey handsome," She smiled as slid in and closed the door. He was all cleaned up himself, in a nice sport coat and slacks, having looked to be departed from his typical straggle beard in favor of being cleanly shaven for once in a blue moon.

"Hello gorgeous," He replied with his infamous lopsided smile.

"Decided to get rid of the sandpaper I see," She teased as she reached over and ran the side of her hand down his temporarily smooth cheek as he cut the wheel and pulled them back into the street. Truthfully, she hated the half-beard thing. He wasn't committed enough to do the whole beard, nor was he committed enough to shave as often as he should, which meant she got left with a face that was chronically prickly.

She'd learned to live with it. And it was almost _endearing_ at that point. "Don't get used to it."

She rolled her eyes, grinning as she sat back in her seat, "Well, no duh, football head. I know how it is at this point."

"How was your day?" He asked, glancing at her, briefly before returning his eyes to the road.

"It was a Friday, how's that?" At that Arnold chuckled. "How about yours?"

"It was alright," He said in a very vague tone. It made Helga wonder if he were nervous about that evening. She knew he didn't have an exiting job by any means—he was a pharmacist, after all—but normally he had a little more to say about it than that. It was sweet, she thought. That he was nervous. Maybe he was afraid he'd botch it up, or maybe he was afraid she'd say no. Which was preposterous, he literally could stick the ring in a flute of champagne and then she choke on it and after having to have the Heimlich performed, would still say 'yes' to him.

Whatever. She just chose to sit back and smile quietly to herself.

The Root Cellar wasn't terribly far away from where she lived. Close enough that if it hadn't been the dog days of August they could have feasibly walked and then Ubered home if they had too much wine. Arnold pulled to the valet and they both exited the vehicle, the keys being handed over to the boy who didn't look too many years younger than the two of them. The tall blonde escorted her inside, his hand on the small of her back then entire time. "Reservation for Shortman," He told the hostess.

The girl double checked the confirmation before handing them off to her helper, who lead them to a table in a secluded corner of a section of the rapidly filling restaurant. "Your waiter will be right with you." Ever the gentleman, Arnold pulled Helga's chair at for her, before seating himself across the table from her. Once seated, she tossed her clutch and her phone to the half of the table they weren't using and reached for the wine menu. "What are you feeling like tonight?" He asked, lacing his hands together on the table.

Helga bit her lip in thought, seeing many things that tickled her fancy. She loved red wine, but she was sure that she didn't want the dreaded 'wine teeth' that night. "Maybe a selbach-oster."

"What's that?"

"A pinot."

Arnold nodded, "Let's get a bottle then." While he was anything but a wine-o like she was, they often would split a bottle of wine when they went out to nicer places on dates.

Their anticipated waiter finally breezed up to their table, well dressed with his hands clasped in front of him, "Welcome to the Root Cellar. My names Sebastian and I'll be taking care of you tonight. Have you guys been with us before?"

"We have," Helga looked up from her menu, casting him a nice smile.

"Fantastic. Well can I start you off with some waters? Perhaps some libations?"

"Yeah, I think we're going to do a bottle of the selback-oster," Helga replied, snapping the menu shut and sliding to the other side of the table, "And a couple waters."

"Excellent choice," Sebastian nodded, "I'll have that right out," He said before walking away. Arnold was still strangely quiet, having stuck his face in the menu as if it were any ole' night.

Helga gave his form a ghost of a smirk, shaking her head before picking up her own menu. She was almost too excited to even think about eating, which made picking out a meal a real chore.

"You want an appetizer?" Arnold asked, not looking up.

"Do you want one?" She threw the question right back at him. Personally, she didn't desire any extra food than necessary. When he didn't reply she went on with, "If you get something, I'll probably have a bite or two."

"I don't want anything, but if you did, I'd get something."

"Ah..." Helga continued to scan her menu, trying to find something that she _might_ would want to eat through her nerves. Sebastian returned faster than expected with their bottle of wine, an ice bucket for it to sit in and a pair of glasses.

"Here you are," He poured a bit into each glass before placing the bottle into the bucket, "I'll have those waters right out. Are you ready to order or do you need a few more minutes."

"I'm ready," Arnold's head shot up, leaving Helga's left eyebrow to subtly creep up her forehead. Nerves must have been really getting to hairboy. "I'll have the duck Gorgonzola," He shut the menu and handed it off to Sebastian, his attention then turned to her.

"I'll have the seafood risotto," She finally settled on that, knowing that the leftovers—that she was sure to have plenty of, as she was too excited to want to eat much—would be good. She closed the menu and passed it into Sebastian's awaiting hand.

"Very good. I'll be right back with those waters."

"So..." Helga trailed off, grabbing for her glass of wine and reclining back in her chair to have an exploratory sip. She made a good selection that night, "You're awfully quiet tonight."

Arnold straightened and took a sip from his own glass, "I've just got a lot on my mind."

His girlfriend smirked, curling her hand and pinning her glass against her shoulder, "Like what? You're never this quiet."

"Just work stuff and...you know."

Popping her eyebrows once, she decided to humor him, "Alright then."

Arnold quietly sighed, drumming his fingers lightly on the cloth table cover, subtly biting his lip as he absently stared off at the other goings on around the dinning quarters. "So...I uh..."

"Here you go," Sebastian walked up carrying two waters, effectively cutting off whatever her boyfriend was about to say.

"Thank you," Helga replied before turning her attention back to Arnold, giving him the, continue-what-you-were-saying eager face.

"Is uh...is Phoebe driving you nuts? Because I'm about to strangle Gerald," He asked, referring to _his_ roommate with a low chuckle.

* * *

Helga was happy that Arnold seemed to have loosened up a bit, though there was still a notable aloofness to him that simultaneously irritated her and made her feel bad for him. Their entrees arrived and they both seemed to pick at their meals as much as the other. Nerves she guessed. Halfway through, Arnold quietly put his knife and fork down, dabbing his mouth with his napkin before saying, "I need to talk to you about something."

And there it was.

She had to fight the urge to smile from ear to ear. To beam really. She wouldn't though, being the hell of an actress that she was. Seriously, she deserved an academy award for how she'd pretended to loath him as a child. Instead, she calmly looked up from her meal, appearing to be none-the-wiser and asked, "Everything okay?"

"So...I uh...I've been thinking about this for awhile and...thinking about us..." He trailed off.

Helga's heart was about to hammer out of her chest, inhaling as calmly as she could as she thumbed her fork down and reached for her glass of wine. Taking a few decent sized gulps to still the butterflies coming up through her stomach before nodding, "Yeah?"

"And I...um..." This was it, she thought. This was the moment. He was going to ask. He was going to ask and she was going to die...from joy. "I'm...moving abroad."

The young blonde stopped, not sure she had heard that right. No. She was certain that there was no way she could miss hear, 'Will you marry me?' for 'I'm moving abroad.' "Uh... _what?_ " She flatly asked, now more confused than ever.

Arnold closed his eyes and sighed dreadfully, appearing as if he really didn't want to be doing what he was doing, "I'm going to be moving abroad."

It was her turn to just stare at him for a solid thirty-seconds before saying, "You're a pharmacist," She didn't really know what else to say, or what she was trying to point out, other than pharmacist's weren't typically known for their spontaneous, Indiana Jones like behavior.

"I joined an organization that's similar to doctors without borders. I'm going to be living and providing medical care in undeveloped nations."

Well that was all fine and noble and all, "For how long?"

His green eyes shifted back up to her still ever confused expression and sighed again, "I've always had this gnaw inside to...get out there and see the world and...maybe do some good deeds too. I think I get it honestly from my parents. I think they would have been proud of me choosing this," He watched as she nodded and took a few big gulps from her wine, "I don't know how long I'll be gone," He finally admitted, "And with that being said...I...think that we should...or...you should...see other...people."

Helga downed her wine glass, shaking her head and blinking a few times as the rush of alcohol went straight to her brain, " _Wow_...I did not see this coming tonight."

Arnold, looking as pathetic as ever, tried the whole, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? This...this isn't how the story goe _s_!"

"What am I suppose to do? I love you, but...I've got this whole part of me that's unfulfilled. You're working towards your career. I can't ask you to up and _move_ to some random place across the globe. This is what's best. I'm leaving right after Phoebe and Gerald's wedding," He explained. She was the maid of honer, and he was the best man. Things just got complicated, "I mean, we can still go tog—"

"—I've spent the better part of my life loving you, you know that? This isn't something you do to somebody you love. I would never do this to you," She stabbed her index finger at him.

"I'm sorry! But, I need to do this for _me._ If we're meant to be, like you've always said, then it'll work out. Our paths will find each other again."

"Sure..." She irritably replied, grabbing her phone and clutch before standing up, "Well...good luck with that I guess."

"Helga..."

She took a few steps before backing up and grabbing the bottle of wine out of the ice bucket, "You know what? I'm taking this. Because it's _delicious._ " Before stalking her way through the surrounding tables.

"Helga!" Arnold called with a reasonably elevated voice so not to call attention to their debacle. Huffing at her ridiculousness, he turned back around, digging out his wallet, thankful that he'd brought cash that night before throwing down enough to more than cover what he guesstimated their bill to be, and jogged from the building. Turning each way, he finally caught sight of her walking down the sidewalk, doing something on her phone.

"Helga...wait!" He sprinted up behind her.

"Go away, Arnold."

"You're being ridiculous."

" _I'm_ being ridiculous?"

"Look it's not that I don't want to _be_ with you. This is a personal fulfillment thing. I'm never going to be happy until I do this," He tried, walking after her, hoping she'd stop, but she didn't. "Oh come on Helga..." He said again, running his hand over the back of his neck, "I'm pretty sure you can't just be walking around out on the street with an open container like this," He finally tried pointing out, referring to the bottle of wine she just took a sip out of, and hoping maybe that would get some reaction from her.

Predictably she scoffed at his _reasonable_ assumption, "I'm getting an Uber home so don't worry about me."

Arnold sighed, perching his hands on his hips, "I'm also certain they aren't going to be cool with you having an open container in their car," When he didn't get any further reaction at of her, he walked over and grabbed her phone, "Cancel the ride, I'll take you home."

"Criminey football head, you itching to get slugged tonight too?" She threatened, swatting at him before snatching it back from him his hand.

"Just let me take you home, okay?"

"You know what? _Whatever._ Whatever floats your damn boat," She rolled her eyes, not wanting to take the ride, but not really desiring to wait for an Uber either. She could barely look at him as he walked back to the valet and politely asked them to fetch his vehicle. They did so quickly, and the pair climbed in. Not saying a word the entire drive back to her apartment. Nothing but the hums of the vehicle, two blinkers and her occasional swig from the wine bottle cut the silence. When he finally pulled to the curb in front of her home, she quickly exited, wanting nothing more to do with him for the night.

He'd broken her heart, and she wasn't even sure how to process that right then. He'd crushed her many times in her life, but ever single one of them had been because of some miscommunication, or accident. It have never been done with deliberateness. This was a new feeling entirely. "Helga..." He beckoned softly to her fleeting form.

"Goodbye Arnold..." Was all she had to say to him before she shut the door in his face and retreated into her house. Once inside she zombied through the living room, right past Phoebe who was asking something or other, right down the hallway and into her bedroom before slouching down on her bed, finishing off the bottle of wine in a long a hefty couple of gulps and collapsing back on the mattress.

Welp, there came the tears.

* * *

 **Saturday Night.**

Brian 'Brainy' Miller stood outside the apartment door of his girlfriend, dressed nicely for his friend's stock the bar party happening that night, and growing more irritated by Heather's increasing tardiness. She knew that the shindig was happening that night, and he'd told her several times when to be ready. He wrapped his knuckles on wood for a third time. They weren't serious. At least _he_ didn't consider them serious. He assumed she was on the same page. They'd only been seeing each other for a few months and if it weren't for him hating to show up to functions without a plus one—namely Phoebe and Gerald's wedding right around the corner—he'd not have even worried about. Truthfully, he'd thought about breaking it off, realizing that that he as a twenty-five year old guy with a career, had much less in common with a newly twenty-one year old than he'd imagine.

Age gaps could work, but apparently not until later in life. That much he was learning.

He sighed, almost walking away and saying screw her, when, as a last resort, he reach out and turned the door handle, just to see if it were unlocked. Maybe she were in the shower and didn't hear him. Surprisingly it was unlocked and he decided to let himself in. Peeking his head around the door he quietly called, "Heather?"

He didn't see anything, but he did hear a slight noise coming from the shut bedroom door across the living room area. Honestly, if she was getting ready, he was probably going to scare the crud out of her, but at that point, she deserved it for not understanding the concept of punctualness.

Moving closer to the bedroom door, he heard the muffled sounds get a little louder, and he finally reached out and opened that door too, fright be damned. And...alright cool. His eyes widened, seeing her on top of some other guy, riding him like a freakin' racehorse in her bed. He'd always imagined he would have been more angry in a situation like this, should he ever have the misfortune to stumble across one, but...he found it more funny than anything.

Which truly showed how much he wasn't into dating this girl if anything.

He could have left quietly, but he decided to do the ole' fake cough thing...which, was worth it, seeing the two of them jump at his presence. "What the hell?!" The other guy bellowed.

"Hey there sea-biscuit. Oh, no, don't stop on my behalf, but hey, a reminder. It's Saturday and you had plans with me," He smiled brightly at Heather, "Alright, buh-bye now," He did the farewell salute to the girl he would no longer be seeing anymore, and left her apartment. As he took the elevator down, and got back in his truck he murmured, "This is why I hate dating..." with a dead-panned expression.

* * *

Helga rolled into the bar that Phoebe and Gerald were throwing their party at, a little later than she had planned. She wasn't much in the celebrating mood, all things considering, but she was going to be there for her friends. Arnold would, of course, be there too, to her dissatisfaction, but it wasn't like she could _stop_ him. Her best option was just to ignore him the entire night, which would probably raise a ton of eyebrows. None of their friends knew yet. Except for Gerald and Phoebe. The rest of the gang... _clueless._ And would predictably be flabbergasted when they found out.

For the exact same reason that she was still in awe. They were _suppose_ to be together. Everybody had been sure of it. She'd bet _everything_ on it. Now, in a matter of...well overnight, she'd gone from knowing everything to knowing nothing anymore!

Criminey, now she knew how Jon Snow felt in every single episode of G.O.T.

Her future was suddenly a mystery.

So, what was the appropriate amount of time one had to stay at a party before calling it a night again?

Inside the bar, she carried her alcoholic gift—a fancy bottle of rose'—to the gift table and plopped it down there, waving to her best friend, who was chatting with some girls that she worked with before hightailing it to the bar for a much needed beverage. All of her friends were around chatting. Curly and Rhonda, Sid and Nadine, Sheena and Eugene, Lila and Arnie, Patty and Harold. All her stupid little couple friends. Except for Stinky. Ever. Single. Stinky. "Can I get a glass of red wine, please?" She asked the bartender as she took a seat on the stool.

"Want to start a tab?"

"You betcha," She replied, fishing out her debit card and handing it over with a 'shut-up-and-take-my-money' type of hurriedness.

"Jeez, you planning on getting turnt tonight?" Brian teased as he walked up behind her.

" _Turnt?_ " Helga chortled, looking over, "Learning hip knew words from Heather?" She jested him right back, referring to the age difference between him and his newly _ex_ -girlfriend.

"Want to know what the word _extra_ means now?"

"Not particularly. But if you were asking if I'm planning on getting tore up tonight then...yeah, maybe."

Brian snorted, sliding onto the stool right next to hers with his wallet already in hand, "I hear you. Can I get a whiskey, neat. House is fine. And I want to start a tab too," He pushed his debit card to the guy.

"I'm guessing you are contemplating the same?"

"Absolutely. I've just got to figure out which one of you is driving me home...eh..." He motioned his index finger upwards as if he'd just had an idea, "Definitely not you."

Helga chortled, "Definitely _not_ me. Where is ole' Heather at, by the way?" She then innocently asked, finding it a little strange that his 'just turned twenty-one year old' girlfriend would seemingly be absent from what was _essentially_ a drinking party. The Bermuda triangle was less of an oddity than that.

Brian's eyebrow quirked as he side-eyed her. Right about that moment, the bartender sat his glass down in front of him and he spun on the stool to face the action like she was, "Well, last time I checked, still in her apartment with a guy I nicknamed sea-biscuit balls deep in her," He casually explained before taking an exploratory sip of his beverage, smacking his lips rapidly.

It took a moment for Helga to completely register that _entire,_ overly informative statement, but when it all finally clicked together coherently for her, she nearly choked on the gulp of wine she had in her mouth. Thankfully, she was able to hurriedly swallow before embarrassing herself, "Oh my God...seriously?" She asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "That happened tonight?"

Her friend chuckled, "Yep."

"Jeez, Brian...I'm so sorry to hear that," She was suddenly feeling like her woes weren't the absolute _worst_ in the room anymore. At least Arnold had had some tact to him. Oh, and also hadn't been cheating. Except wanting to see other countries instead of her, but that hardly counted.

Yet, for something so dramatic, Brian seemed rather indifferent about it, merely waving her sympathy off as he was taking another sip of his drink, "It wasn't going anywhere."

"Still. Nobody deserves that happening to them."

"I know," He chuckled, casually shrugging one of this shoulders, "It was kind of funny, truth be told...walking in on somebody like that."

"If you say so." It definitely wasn't something she'd ever want to walk in on.

A comfortable silence fell over the pair as they were both content watching everybody else chatting about. Helga finally noticed Arnold come in and make the rounds, chatting with different people. It made Brian's eyebrow raise seeing him, solo, hanging out. He figured the dude would have come over to the bar by then to see his girlfriend, or better yet, said girlfriend sitting beside him would have gone to go meet up with him. Instead she stared into the assemble of people with a subtle hint of dejectedness that he could tell she was trying to mask with indifference and the wine glass glued to her mouth, "Everything okay with you guys?" He finally procured as the concerned friend that he was.

"Huh?" Helga shook her head, and looked over at him. He took that to mean that she hadn't heard him, and not that she needed him to clarify what he was asking about.

"Is everything okay with you?" He repeated more timidly. Despite growing out of a lot of her hostility towards people caring about her well being, she still wasn't the type that liked to openly discuss her feelings. Even with close friend. And there was always a lingering part of Brian that was afraid of getting wacked in the face.

She considered him for a moment, as usual, not really _desiring_ to explain anything to him, but knowing as close-nit as their group had become over the years, everybody was going to find out. Sooner than later. "No, it's not," She downed what was left of her wine before placing it back on the bar, "Can I get another?"

"Sure..."

"Arnold is moving abroad."

Brian's brows pulled together in about as much confusion as Helga was still firmly swirling around in a full day later, "So...what does that mean?" His natural assumption was that _they_ would be moving abroad, but that didn't feel right based on the pairs lack of interaction with one another.

And he was right. Helga sneered, trying her best not to be entirely mean spirited about her ex-boyfriend's decision, "It means..." She trailed off, grabbing the refilled wine glass and bringing it back to her lips, "He wants me to see other people," She borrowed Arnold's phrasing, "Because he doesn't know how long he is going to be gone. Maybe forever. Who the hell knows."

"He broke things off?" Brian asked in perplexity, his disbelief immediately confirmed his friend's mournful, if lazy, nod, "Wow. I...can't believe that."

"How do you think I feel? I had my whole _life_ planned out up until yesterday."

"Really? The _whole_ thing?"

Helga thinned her eyes at him, knowing that he was attempting to tease her about her over planning, "You know what I mean. I mean, we've only been dating for three years but we've been orbiting each other since we were _five._ "

"Well, I guess that means the rest of us mortals are doomed," Brian took a hollowed sip from his whiskey, looking a little weary by the thought already.

"It's so... _him_ though. Trying to save the world and all that crap," Helga let it slide, choosing to ramble on, nearly through that second glass of wine already.

"What's he going for exactly?"

"I don't know. I think he joined the peace corp or something."

"Ah. Yeah that is 'so like him'," Brian agreed. Mostly just to make her feel better, but he couldn't say he was entirely surprised at Arnold's grandious life plans. He was a guy with big ideas and a soul with an unquenchable wanderlust. He was more surprised that there had been what appeared to be no option of Helga going with him. "Looks like it's you, me and ole' Stinky in the singles club now," He light-heartedly teased her again, though it was probably the worse thing he could possibly do. He knew it probably didn't make her feel any better but he didn't know what else to say at that point.

"Ugh-gah, _no,_ " Helga whined as she lolled her head back.

"And we're the three best friends that anyone can have," He leaned in and began singing, "The three best friends that anyone—"

"—can it, Miller," Helga palmed him off with her hand to his face, effectively shutting him up as she did, "Or you're getting reunited with the fist next," She ideally threatened, though knowing she wouldn't be taken seriously. Alas, her brawling days were far behind her by then.

Brian merely chuckled before downing the rest of his drink, turning and sitting it on the bar. Catching the eye of the bartender he pointed to the empty glass and gave the thumbs up. "Well, everything happens for a reason," He told her, as he watched the guy refill his whiskey. That was his best advice. Mostly because when it came to a love life, he was a fly by the seat of his pants type of guy.

"Does it? Because I don't think it does."

Her friend reclaimed his new drink, planting his eyes on her momentarily before following hers back out to their friends...and Arnold. "Yeah. I believe that it does."

"Whatever floats your boat," Helga finished her second glass and beckoned the bartender for another, "I was expecting a proposal from him and now I'm halfway to thirty and newly single," She said with a slight disdain in her voice. Truthfully it was because the sentence as a whole tasted terrible on the tip of her tongue, and she never, in her wildest imagination, ever thought she'd be uttering such, "I mean...what's left at this point? Cats?"

Brian snorted, "I'm single and halfway to thirt—"

"—Oh you know what I mean!" She clipped at him.

"Well...it's not the end of the world." At that Helga began glaring at him once more, "I know you were in love with him and all but..." He trailed off, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck cautiously as he side eyed her, "I'm just saying its not like your time has run out or anything. You could...just look at it like I do."

"I shudder at what vision that must be..."

Brian rolled his eyes at her ever ungratefulness, "As long as Stinky is still single. I've got _plenty_ of time."

Helga snorted, really starting to feel the alcohol at that point, " _He's_ your measure of success?"

"Of course. Look at him," He gestured to their lanky friend having a conversation with Sid and Harold, "God bless the guy, but he's got zero game with woman. I mean, neither do I, but I at least _date_. Though admittedly it's been mostly a waste of time. It's a real crap shoot out there if we're being honest."

"You're making me feel _so_ much better," Helga sarcastically drawled.

"Sorry, the point I was getting at was: has he _ever_ brought a date to our game nights or parties?"

"Has he...?" Helga's brow furrowed as she tried to think of a single time in the five years they'd been getting together for game nights that Stinky had brought a date. Never. She couldn't remember one. She couldn't recall him ever even _talking_ about a girl. "On my God...you're right. He's like...forever single."

Brian chuckled and took a sip of his whiskey, "See. Feels better right?"

" _No._ Now I feel terribly for Stinky _and_ myself," Helga groaned, running her hand down her face.

"Well, I tried."

"I've just got to remain positive Brian. Remain _positive._ He's going to get over there and miss me and...he'll be home before I know it."

"Alright well, let's drink to that then," He held his glass up for her to clink.

* * *

 **Six Months Later.**

Not a peep from Arnold in six solid months. At least from her point of view. He'd apparently face-timed with Gerald once, which was fine and dandy, but she was flabbergasted that he hadn't tried to call her. Not once! Now she was starting to get worried. Worried that...he was right. Maybe he didn't know when he would be coming back. Maybe...she should see what else was out there. In terms of...other men.

Nonsense!

Who would she see? She'd never played the whole dating game. She'd literally only ever dated him! She was twenty-five years old and already exhausted by the idea of meeting somebody else. Oh like she were in any hurry, despite her friends urging her to 'get-out-a-little'. Easy for a group of people who were all married or seeing people they had known their _entire_ lives. Brian had unwittingly offered up a nugget of advice that she'd initially cast off as utter ridiculousness. However, she'd come to find a lot of comfort in it the more that time began to tick by.

Watching Stinky's complete lack of love life—scratch that—his complete disinterest in _any_ love life did make her feel a _world_ of better. As unfortunate as that was.

And, against her better judgment, he also became her tool of comparison. As long has his love life was non-existent, she wasn't worried about meeting somebody else.

It was Thursday night, which meant it was dirty trivia time at Buckets on main. The gang's favorite dive bar that wasn't infested with twenty-year old's seeking to get wasted on dollar PBR tall boys. Funny how that worked. Helga slid in the front door, making a bee-line to their usual spot over in the far left corner, grabbing a chair in between a few of her friends that was empty with an untouched water in front of it, "So what's our team name tonight?" She grabbed a straw on the table, peeling off the paper and stuck it in the drink.

"We're the periodic table dancers," Rhonda said, and Helga could just hear the eye roll in her tone. The blonde however, thought it was _great._ She thoroughly appreciate a good clever team name, and they'd been on a hot streak lately.

" _Yes!_ " She snorted, "Who came up with that?"

"Harold," Patty replied, eyeing her husband over by the bar where he was grabbing their drinks.

Helga followed her eyes, seeing the rest of the gang corralling their beverages before the game started. All the usual suspects, but she did catch sight of an unknown brunette snugly perched between Lila and Stinky, all three appearing to be in conversation. "Lila bring a friend tonight?"

"Oh, my _God,_ " Rhonda reached out and grasped her forearm, obviously thrilled that she'd noticed, "Brace yourself Pataki."

"I think you're doing that for me at this point, princess," Helga rolled her eyes before picking up the water and putting the straw in her mouth.

"Stinky brought a date." Helga spit water as Rhonda released her arm, "I had a similar reaction myself. Less disgusting of course."

Once Helga wiped her mouth, she eyeballed her two friends, "Are we _sure_ she's a date?"

"That's what he introduced her as."

"Apparently," Patty butted in, "They met a coffee shop."

"Oh. That's...cool I guess," Helga looked past her friend once more to stare at Stinky. Watching him laugh cheerily as his date said something obviously very funny.

Well that sucked.

* * *

The night had come to a conclusion. They had kicked ass at trivia and now everybody was headed out in order to get up for one last work day until the weekend. Helga gathered her stuff and herded out the doors with the rest of her friends, everybody saying their goodbyes before separating off into the direction of their cars.

Helga had been well aware that she'd parked beside Phoebe and Gerald at the end of the lot when she arrived, so it was no surprise to her that they opted to accompany her on her walk. "You've been a little quiet tonight," Phoebe observed, mostly assuming that her friend had been tired.

"Eh..." She distractedly replied. She hadn't been the most talkative. Almost having become frozen in the shock of Stinky _actually_ having a date. Maybe it was some sort of...sign?

"Okay..."

Helga stopped and looked back at her best friend, "So this is going to sound stupid but, back at your stock the bar party, Brian pointed out to me that Stinky is basically a-sexual."

At that Gerald burst out laughing to the unamused side-eye of his wife, "What?" She asked, expecting some clarification.

"Like...no interest in dating. Forty-year old virgin territory."

"Oh damn..." Gerald guffawed, "That's pretty good. Harsh...but spot on."

" _Anyway,_ I kind of made a bet with myself that as long as he stayed single forever it wouldn't be all that pathetic for me to hold out for Arnold coming back."

"Oh, wow...that's a little weird. Even for you. Not the holding out for Arnold part the creating a model of comparison out of a friend."

"Oh, come on!" Helga huffed at her friend, "I was desperate and it was a bet that I couldn't lose. And by the way, _I_ didn't come up with this alone. Apparently Brian has been doing this all along."

"That explains...more than ever actually."

"Go figure. You are one unlucky individual, Pataki," Gerald butted in again, wiping his eyes, "Either that or you jinxed yourself. Bro has his first date _ever._ Might even get laid soon, if he hasn't already."

Helga rolled her eyes at him, taking solace in the fact that at least Phoebe seemed to take her self-inflicted problem somewhat seriously, even if she were still a little confused, "Well Helga, I guess this means it's time for you to move on then. Per your own rules of course."

"I know..."

"It'll be good for you. Healthier at the very least," Phoebe slipped that last bit in there under her breath.

"I don't really want to," She sighed, slumping her shoulders, "But honestly...I probably need to."

"You need to."

* * *

 **One year crept by...**

 **Then two...**

And three boyfriends later, not to mention the countless one time dates she'd been on. Things weren't going so hot. Whoever said that there were plenty of fish in the sea was full of _crap_. Oh, fish there were, but none that she considered herself even _remotely_ compatible with. Hell, she'd just broken up with number three because she'd hated how he said, 'you know?' after every statement he made. Number two had bit the dust because he agreed with everything she had to say, and well...number one had broken up with _her_ because he said she was too 'emotionally unavailable.' So...maybe he wasn't _wrong._ But God she was so petty...and easily annoyed. It just continued to confirm her belief—despite what her friends said—that Arnold was the one and only one for her. However, unfortunately he was refusing to be a participant in the story that had been pre-planned for them, which forced her to continue to sail through life...story-less.

It was their bi-weekly Friday game night, and Helga had just let herself into Sheena and Eugene's house, the hosts for that weeks game of 'Them versus us'. She slunk into the kitchen, catching sight of a few of her friends as she dropped her bag and the bottle of wine she brought on their island. One of them being her miserably pregnant best friend, leaning back against the counter as Nadine yapped at her about something. Seriously. If that kid fell out in the living room that night, she wouldn't be the least bit surprised.

"Hey gang," Helga issued her greeting in which everybody promptly reciprocated.

While she was leaning over the island to grab a handful of potato chips she heard Phoebe ask, "Brett couldn't make it tonight?" Which caused Helga to silently cringe before turning around and palming the chips into her mouth in a less than graceful manner.

"No. I uh...sort of broke up with him yesterday." Gasps of horror and disbelief erupted from her friends, and she figured they would. Apparently they'd really liked that one, "What?" She opted to play dumb anyway.

"We liked Brett."

"Yeah he was great."

Helga shrugged, chomping down on another clutch of chips, "Well, maybe for you guys but not for me."

Phoebe eyeballed her friend knowingly as she crossed her arms over her enlarged midsection. She couldn't wait to hear what petty thing it was _this_ time. "Dare I ask what was wrong with him?"

"I mean..." She trailed off elusively.

"Was he disappointing in bed?" Rhonda chimed in, her interest now peeked and to the odd but expected looks of Nadine, Sheena, Lila and Patty. Rhonda had a habit of wanting the gory details of everything. Absolutely _everything_. But seeing her friends expressions had her rolling her brown eyes defensively, "What? He was a dish otherwise."

"Don't give her that much credit," Phoebe replied back, leaving Helga's own eyes to widen a bit. "I'm positive it wasn't over anything _that_ serious." This new mother-to-be Phoebe was savage.

"Well, if you must know..."

"I simply must," Rhonda affirmed.

"He was _fine_ in that department he just..." She again trailed off before huffing with the roll of her eyes. "You know how he always liked to say, 'you know?' after _everything._ "

"...yeah?"

"Oh my gosh," Lila blurted in disbelief, "You really broke up with him over _that?_ "

" _Yes!_ It annoyed me!"

"You're impossible."

"And I thought I was picky..." Rhonda agreed.

"Oh come on...since when am I _not_ allowed to be picky?" Helga defended, feeling a little like she was getting ganged up on by everybody.

"Picky about what?" Helga turned her head to see Brian coming out of the living room to grab a few snacks from the kitchen island.

"Guys that I date."

Her blonde headed guy friend popped another can of beer open and went straight for the chips and cheesy dip, "So you broke up with Brett huh?" He guessed and shoved a few chips in his mouth, washing it down with the beer.

"Take a guess why," Patty commented, egging him on in the conversation.

" _Really?_ " Helga cut her eyes to the girl, thinning them enough to show her unappreciativeness.

"Was it because he said, 'You know?' after everything?"

At that Helga triumphantly crossed her arms and tilted her head at her friends, "Well, well, well...how about _that._ "

"Unbelievable..."

"How are you going to come over here and encourage her bad behavior?" Nadine procured of Brian, a hand perched on her hip but a feather of a smile ghosting on her lips. Truth be told she found the whole thing hilarious.

"Because it _was_ annoying," He took a sip of beer and dunked some more chips, "You married people need to cut us some slack. You don't realize how much of a crap shoot dating is these days."

Helga shifted her eyes back to him, " _Thank you,_ "

"Howdy everybody!" The gathering in the kitchen turned to see Stinky and his girlfriend Amy come shuffling up the hallway from the front door, carrying a six pack and a tray of cookies. Which made Helga feel bad that she'd forget to bring some food of some sort. Amongst her other problems that night.

"Hey guys!"

Amy sat the cookies down on the island, sliding some of the other finger foods over. Sheena walked over and removed the plastic top and got it out of the way.

"How's it been going?" Brian asked the two as the reached over and picked up a peanut butter cookie from the newly placed offerings.

"Well, actually, we have some exciting news," Stinky replied, eyes sparkling in a way that Brian couldn't recall ever seeing out of his friend. The taller guy put his arm around his girlfriends shoulder and pulled her closer to his side, everybody's attention suddenly being had. Before he could deluge what joys he had to tell them, Amy beat him to it, holding up her left hand to allow the room to see the diamond ring glinting off of her slender finger.

"He proposed!"

Brian seemed dumbfounded for a moment, not being sure if he'd heard that correctly. It was the chorus of congratulations around him that confirmed that he hadn't been hearing things. Blinking, he finally snapped out of it, "Wow, congratulations you two," He said with a warm smile.

Across the kitchen island, Helga was in the same exact boat. What alternate universe had she fallen into?

* * *

 **One more year later.**

Oh it was just wonderful. Truly it was. The venue they picked was a quaint little farm house that doubled as both ceremony and reception. Mason jars and burlap everything for days. It was very Instagram chic. She, surprisingly had a date that night...who she'd abandoned at the table in favorite of grabbing another glass of wine. Like he cared. She continued to watch him from afar. He looked like he was more than enjoying the conversation being had by one of Amy's cousins. Honestly, what were the odds that they'd both be from the same obscure town in Oklahoma?

Brian walked up beside her to fetch himself another beer, "Well Pataki, we officially jinxed ourselves," He lightly chuckled.

Helga snorted, "We've gone beyond jinxed. We're officially losers," She took a gulp of wine, "Also I think my date might leave me for that girl he's so animatedly talking with."

Brian retrieved his beer before following her eyes to her table, seeing the man she'd come with hysterically laughing with said girl, a twinkle in both their eyes. "They do seem rather smitten."

Helga nodded, "Yeah. They're from the same hick town in Oklahoma."

"Wow...that's...hard to believe."

"Isn't it..." Helga agreed, still in a little disbelief herself. "Where's Catherine?" She asked, referring to his latest girlfriend.

"She had to cover a shift at the hospital."

"Ah, that sucks."

"Apparently the flu is going around," He then downed his beer.

"The flu has a better dating strategy than me," She joked, and they both laughed.

"So, I'm thinking about getting out of here and getting turnt," He smirked at her as he tossed his empty bottle in a nearby bin. Some would consider it incredibly rude to dip out on his friends wedding, but the truth was, they'd been there for a few hours by then and the thing was winding down.

An interested eyebrow of Helga's perked as her eyes cut to him, "Where you headed?"

"Uhh...maybe to Buckets, or maybe just home since I'm now a certified loser," He chucked in response.

Helga finished the last of her wine before turning to him, "Want some company?"

Brian snorted, "You forgetting about your date?"

"Something tells me he wont notice," She chuckled, casting _Zack_ one last glance before looking back at her friend.

* * *

"No, no, no. He's probably all like..." Helga snorted, red faced and thoroughly wasted, sitting at a bar, "Jee wilikers...you want me to touch you _where?_ "

She and Brian had made there way to Bucket's, where they had planted their butts at the bar and drank like sailors, talking and laughing about a range of topics that got more ridiculous the more drunk they became. Currently, what they thought Stinky was like in bed.

Brian's head was down on his arm, propped on the bar from laughing so hard at the thought, "Or...or...oh my God," He raised himself back up, trying to stop laughing, "What if he was all secretly like that dude from fifty shades of grey?"

Helga's head lolled back on shoulders in laughter, "I...I can't even."

"On their first date he pulls our a butt plug and a ball gag." His friend was laughing even harder, and so was he. "How's about we go to my room of pain," He twanged his voice to mimic their country friend. And it was just too much.

"Oh...great day," Helga finally inhaled, wiping her eyes, "My body hurts now," She said, holding her stomach as she washed some more wine down. "It hurts so good."

"It's funny. I'm happy for him though," Brian admitted, though it was no secret. Their jokes were all in good fun.

"Yeah. I'm glad he found somebody." She smirked, running her finger around the rim of her wine glass, "There really is someone out there for everybody."

"I guess so."

"What? Things seem to be going well with Catherine," Helga pointed out. He was doing better in the dating department that she was. Of course...she already knew who the person out there for her was. The problem was he was on a different continent. Brian, on the other hand, still had his to hunt.

Her guy friend shrugged, "I guess, but, I don't think she's the one. She's great and all but, I don't see it working out long term."

"And why is that?"

"She's very career driven, and that's wonderful but...it also leaves her with little free time, by choice, and...I just think there is more to life that work," He explained, tilting his nth beer bottle up and finishing it off before catching the giggles. He was drunker than he wanted to be, even if he still sounded like he had a semblance of rational thought to him. "Is Arnold still on the table for you?"

Helga rolled her eyes a little, "Always..." Her voice sounded a little more reproachful than she intended it to.

"Why? There's somebody else out there. Per your words."

"No, I said there's some _one_ out there for everybody. As in, one single person that's meant for you."

Brian snorted and motioned for the bartender to bring him another, "You're such a hopeless romantic. And a word nerd."

"Hey..." Helga feigned offense, a smirk drawing at her intoxicated lips, "I...just think that...everybody has their soul mate. A...pre-written story."

"Uh huh..."

"And they have to find them."

"Uh huh..."

"And he's mine, and...I'm his."

"You think so...?"

"And also I think dating is a damn chore."

Brian snorted in laughter, tipping his new beer at her, "There it is," He laughed a little more, "You're right though. It _is_ a chore."

His friend peered at him for a few seconds before sighing, chortling and downing the last of her wine glass. She was pretty sure she was about to polish off an entire bottle at that point, "Maybe we're just too picky, Brian. Maybe _that's_ our problem. Unrealistic standards."

"Or maybe we have... _reasonable_ standards?" He offered up instead.

"I think I like that better," She clicked her tongue at him with a pointed index finger and a wink. The bartender topped her off again and she took another sip before sighing, "Ugh- _gah_...thirty is around the corner too."

"And?"

"And I'm fearful of looking like I don't have my life together by then."

"How do you think I feel?" Brian remarked. "I'm an only child, and a reasonably successful pilot. But despite all that, my parents get the most excited looking when I date a girl for more than a few month."

Helga chuckled, "I do have the benefit of my parents not giving a shit."

"Must be nice..."

"Kind of...yeah," Helga then snorted.

"It's like they are afraid that I'm lonely or something."

Helga's alcohol riddled mind suddenly recalled something she'd read a few years back. Maybe it had been triggered by the word 'lonely.' She didn't know. She could only laugh, "I once read a story of a pair of friends that made this...this pact or something of sorts that, if they hit thirty and they both were still single they'd just marry one another and be done with it."

Brian started chuckling, "Where did you read _that?_ "

"I don't know...like...buzzfeed or something."

"Oh course."

"I think they actually went through with it too. Pretty wack though right?"

"Wack, but I can see the appeal."

"What appeal? Who is so lonely that they would agree to marry someone they don't even have romantic feelings for?"

He gave her a toothy smile while giggling, "Exactly. It's like...the perfect motivation to get off your butt and date other people. And date like your life depends on it too."

Helga started laughing and nodding, "True, true. I probably need some motivation like that," She tipped her wine glass up.

"No kidding," Brian agreed before thinking of something even more hilarious, "You know what we should do?" He stopped because he started laughing so hard, "We should make that pact."

"Oh my God..." Helga snorted, rolling her eyes. "... _No._ "

"What? It'll be fun."

"Noooo."

"We'll marry each other at thirty if we fail at this whole dating business. It'll light a fire under our asses."

Helga just looked at him, all red-faced with drunkenness before shaking her head, "God we are so... _turnt,_ and...pathetic."

"I know!" He wheezed between laughter, "But it makes perfect sense right now."

Helga took a deep breath, downing enough alcohol to make it seem like a good idea before giving him the most considering look she was capable of in her drunken state, "You have yourself a deal, Miller." She held her wine out for him to toast.

"To...to our love lives." He clinked her glass.

* * *

 **Six Month Later.**

Another Saturday night, another night he'd be spending alone, and dateless because of a pick-up shift. That had kind of been the last straw for him. He knew it wasn't her attention to treat their relationship like crap, it was her literally trying to battle her way through the dregs of rookie nursing and establish herself, but he needed to feel like two people were involved in this thing.

Luckily, Eugene was available to take his already purchased movie ticket, and the night was salvaged.

Even if the chapter of Catherine in his life effectively got hauled off by the wrecker.

* * *

 ** **Another Six Months.****

Helga stood at the bar of the rooftop lounge she'd agreed to meet a few of her work friends at for a late happy hour, waiting to retrieve a few more cocktails for her small group over by the tall bistro tables. She was now a full fledged professor, teaching several different English literature courses at the university of Hillwood.

She'd also bought her own little town house and was at the point in her life were she felt adult and responsible enough to consider getting a pet. Maybe a cat. Something relatively self sufficient but more loving than say...a fish. It was still up in the air.

Still single though.

Ever single.

And dating hadn't gotten much better. Her professional life was going great. Her love life however, lonelier than a wizard with a shadowy backstory, living an off-the-grid life in a cottage in some fantasy world.

It was complicated. She didn't feel like dwelling on it though.

And still no Arnold. But she wasn't bitter about it... _mostly._

"Hey Helga..." She heard her name and turned to see...one of those complications smiling brightly at her as he walked up.

"Jared," She tried to force her voice to sound as enthused as possible, but she was the type that _hated_ running into people. Unless is was a member of her gang. Otherwise she'd army crawl through a produce section to escape a supermarket if she thought you were in the cereal aisle.

It was complicated...and mildly ridiculous.

"How's it going?" She followed up, sounding cordial. They had no bad blood. She'd broken up with him four months prior, citing her busy work schedule and novel writing, but truthfully, it was because he came from a marathon family.

The type that were always doing some sort of 5k or 10k all times of the year and especially around holidays. A damn nightmare is what it was. She could never see herself liking him enough to want to commit to such torture year round.

She was fit, because she ate well and was blessed with a decent metabolism, but she preferred to keep her running to the bare minimum. Like...for her life _only_ if at all possible.

"Doing well, how about you?"

Small talk. _Yay..._ "Same old, same old."

The tall guy nodded, still smiling, "How's the book coming?"

"Slowly but surely."

* * *

Brian pried his eyes open to the mid-morning light, not immediately recognizing where he was, but having the odd feeling in the center of his gut that he'd really stooped to a new low. He just had to get his barrings about him. He was not the most graceful waker in the morning. Usually acting like he'd been stirred from the dead. The decor was bohemian looking, he could tell that.

Slowly, he remembered going on the date the night prior, and pretty quickly ending up back at her place after she'd 'jumped his bones,' so to speak.

He suddenly felt the subtle tickle of something brushing across the palm of his hand, along with a very light humming coming from a girl. Picking his head up, he blinked a few times and looked over to the sensation, seeing the hippy looking girl he'd hooked up with before trailing a small crystal rock across the lines in his palm. "Um..." He murmured.

Girl, who he finally remembered was named Sage, smirked and batted her eyes up at him casually, "You know...in a past life we were lovers too."

Brian blinked his eyes a few more times, not really sure what she was talking about...or doing with that rock thing on his hand, "What?"

"Your lines. They are the footprints of your energy. And our energy desires to be together once again."

With widening eyes, Brian slowly withdrew his hand from her clutches, "...okay." So, this girl was _nuts._

* * *

 **August - One year later.**

It was Friday night and Helga Pataki had a birthday party to attend to. Brian's to be more exact. The big three- _oh_. Which didn't happen officially until Saturday, but a few of them were to be out of town so, the ever thoughtful gang had orchestrated a surprise early shindig for him at their favorite watering hole that evening. She was rather looking forward to it. It had been a long week on campus. It was the start of the fall semester and things were hectic. And she was anything _but_ back in the swing of things yet.

So, needless to say she was excited about the party. If for nothing more than to just blow off steam.

She made her way into the bar, gift in tow, a tad before her expected arrival time and to see many if not most of her friends already gathered around the tables that had been shoved together in the corner. A cake had been set out. A delicious looking deep brown confection containing twelve kinds of chocolate and all three types of diabetes.

In other words, heavenly. She was definitely having a slice.

She sat her gift—a vinyl record she knew he'd been hunting—down along with the others at the end of the tables and joined in the pre-festivities of drinking and chatting about everybody's work week...or kids. Quite a few of those little boogers had popped up in the last few years. She had six nieces and nephews by then, and not one of them was blood related. Had to love tight nit groups.

It wasn't very long before Phoebe caught sight of Brian walking through the front doors and turned to everybody, "Oh! He's here!"

Once he'd caught sight of them all over in the corner, they all smiled and shouted, "Happy birthday!"

Brian could only shake his head, smirking and looking slightly embarrassed as he crossed the room, "I can't say I'm surprised at you all."

"Hey, he wasn't surprised everyone!" Sid turned around to the gang and said in a smart-ass tone, "Pack it up!"

"Happy dirty thirty, Brian," Helga walked up beside him and elbowed him with a laugh. "Welcome to the old geezers club."

Her friend chuckled, grabbing himself a beer out of one of the buckets the other guys had pitched in for, "I'm awaiting my AARP magazine subscription any day now."

"Well, I'll give you some tips," Gerald slung her arm over his shoulder, "You're going to wake up tomorrow, and everything is going to ache...for _no_ reason."

"Yeah, I think that might be because you have three kids," Harold stared at them, very unconvinced that there was any other reason.

Gerald rolled his eyes, shooing their pudgy friend away, "Ignore his ass, it's a real thing."

"Just get ready to chomp advil," Helga chimed in with a chuckle, to which Gerald did that snap point thing, signalling that he agreed fully. "And for raisin-bran to appear in your pantry along with the odd urge to add a banana to it."

"Wow..." Brian sarcastically gushed, "Thirty sounds so enchanted."

"Smart ass..."

* * *

Brian trudged into this apartment later that night. They hadn't burned the midnight oil, they rarely did anymore, what with half of the gang having kids to tend to in the mornings. It was fine with him. He wasn't much of a night owl as he'd used to be anyhow.

He went through his normal wind down routine before retiring to his bed, where he flipped the TV on and let it play some crime show at a very low volume. He liked the narrators voice. It tended to lull him to sleep quite nicely. But as he lay there on his back, staring up at his twirling ceiling fan, his mind focused on one thing.

When he woke up in the morning, he'd be thirty. It shouldn't have been that big of deal, it was just another day after all, but it felt like something major was suppose to happen. He was a quarter of the way through his life—hopefully—wasn't there supposed to be a new milestone to cross?

His friends were all moving forward with their lives, having families, creating memories with their spouses that they'd look back fondly on in their elder years. He...went to work, went home and went out a few times a week with said friends.

It was sort of a lonely existence once the doors closed. He wasn't unhappy, or depressed by any stretch of the imagination, but he felt like he _could_ be happier.

Maybe he needed a pet or...a roommate to conversate with on a regular basis. Or...

His mind suddenly opened up a drawer to a stored memory he'd all but forgotten. It made him laugh. Surprisingly it was just as funny as it had been two years ago. The stupid little pact that he and Helga had made, three sheets to the wind, after leaving Stinky and Amy's wedding.

If they hit thirty, and were still alone, they would just...marry each other.

Made in good fun of course, and a rather ridiculous proposal to begin with, even if somebody else out there had done it—folks were crazy these days—but the idea of it all kept twinkling in his brain, to the point where he began thinking about it so hard that his nighttime fatigue suddenly evaporated.

Pretending for a moment that it was absolutely _ludicrous_ , how bad, realistically, would it actually be marrying a friend out of, well for lack of any better way of terming it, convenience?

And just like that, he's phone had crept from his bedside table to his face, illuminating his wonder in his eyes with its pale blue light as he typed in 'marriage pact' to the search bar, hoping to maybe pull up the original story that Helga had read.

* * *

 **Saturday Morning**.

He wouldn't say that he'd spent the rest of the night thinking about it, but he'd spent a fair amount of brain power on it before dozing off. Enough to where when he woke up, it was still on his mind. He had managed to locate a story that probably was the one Helga had spoke of. The ages were right and the way the story read, it didn't really sound all that wack.

He got dressed and went out to grab something for breakfast, because his culinary talents consisted of scrambled eggs and and sandwiches, neither of which he wanted that morning. Indeed, he was _no_ stranger to breakfast, lunch and dinner spots around locally...and non-locally too since he traveled quite a bit. A quick trip through the McDonald's drive-thru, and two McGriddles in the parking lot later—it made no sense, he should have just eaten inside—he was still thinking about that pact.

Thinking about it so hard that next thing he knew, his truck seem to be suddenly pulling up to the front of Helga's little town house. He was never the type to just 'stop by.' Who did that anymore? He barely called anyone, like everybody else in his generation, preferring to text, much less just showed up at somebody's house.

He could have just gone home and texted her, but that was just stupid. He was already there. And figuring he couldn't just sit there without out her maybe peeking out the window and seeing him there and it getting even weirder, he opted to just park his truck and go ring her doorbell.

Hopefully she wasn't busy.

What was he saying? Of course she wasn't busy. It was 9:00am on a Saturday morning and she was single. Like him, what could she _possibly_ have going on?

He skipped up her short stoop and rang her bell, feeling his heart began to beat rather hard at that point. A few moments later, and after he saw her peek through the curtains on the rectangular side windows bordering each side of the door, she opened it up. With coffee mug in hand and a surprised expression on her face she asked, "Brian? What's uh...what's going on?"

To be fair, he had every intention of being a little more apologetic about his unannounced visit, but the moment his lips parted ways, the point of his trip just fell right out. "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?"

At that, Helga sort of thinned her eyes, but he could tell she _did_ remember the conversation either. "Yeah...so?" She cocked her head a bit, very confused as to why he was standing there on her porch, that early in the morning inquiring about something they'd done while shellacked at a bar. Mostly because she wasn't even three sips into that cup of coffee and the very obvious dots hadn't clicked yet.

"Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today..." He trailed off, just watching her blink, "Big ole three-oh..." He trailed off again, and she continued to stare at him, "Or as you said...the dirty thirty."

 _Click._

"Oh my God..."

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, there it is. First chapter. I know, its probably a little off the wall of a plot and, lets face it a little far fetched, but it seemed like something that would really lend itself for a romantic comedy. Yes, yes I know! I kind of ditched Arnold and made him seem like a bad guy, but it was the most organic way I could get him out of the picture here. Anyway, please let me know your thoughts, and thanks for taking the time to read!


	2. Should we?

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

 **A/N:** Well, I'm back. Pretty quickly too. Thank you to everybody who read, followed, favored and reviewed. It's always nice to hear your thoughts and nice and see the positive reaction to, well lets face it, an unpopular pairing on this site. I hope you guys enjoy the second installment of this story. Thanks again!

* * *

 **Should we?**

Brian reached up and began rubbing the back of his neck with a timid like half smirk pulling his lips, "Admittedly, I probably shouldn't have rolled up to your house this early in the morning asking this ques—"

"—I thought we were kidding." Helga copped back on elevated whisper, finally breaking out of the mini-trance the whole encounter had rendered her into. It was _literally_ the last thing she'd _ever_ expected him to be inquiring about. _Ever_. Much less that morning.

"I thought we were too!" He defended, "But I started thinking about it last night and..."

Helga's free hand had wandered up and began rubbing the inner corners of her eyes as she started a long sigh, closing her lids, "This is absolutely _insane."_

"Is it though?"

His friends eyes darted open and her hand fell to her hip, " _Yes._ I think this has _all_ the qualifiers."

Try as she might, it did little to convince him otherwise. Even with her exacerbated show. Crossing his arms he began peering at her with much more intent, "Do you _really_ think that or are you just saying that because I ambushed you and you haven't had enough coffee this morning?"

While true to a certain to degree, his studious observation was of little amusement to the young...still only half away woman, so she defiantly pulled her coffee cup to her face and took a long, hard, loud, slurping sip before smartly replying with, "Mmm... _delicious._ Full Colombian. And it's still insane."

Brian sighed, "Can we at least...talk about it?"

At that, Helga thinned her eyes, taking her own turn at peering at him with a little more observation that previously. He appeared serious, and at the very least, unwilling to give up for some unknown reason. "Are...are you having a early midlife crisis?"

"Well if I am, it's only because you and Gerald did such a swell job at selling thirty to me last night..." Brian rolled his brown orbs.

"Hmm...yeah," Helga agreed, realizing that they _may_ have gone a _little_ overboard. That being said, she had a bowl of cornflakes with a sliced banana in it sitting on her counter, and getting soggier by the second, right next to her morning assortment of vitamins.

Brian shifted his weight to one foot, "I read that story you told me about. Last night. At least I think it was the same one."

"Okay?"

"Trust me, it still seems crazy to me too, but...they made it seem...not so bad."

Helga sighed, "So...you _really_ think that we should just...throw _all_ caution to the wind and...get married simply because were thirty and we agreed to do so, while having had too many drinks and because of a dumb story I read?"

Brian shrugged, "I mean...that and we're both single, failing miserably at our love lives, lonely...growing older..."

"Okay, okay," Helga silenced him with her hand. Last thing she needed was him trying to talk her into it with things she already knew to be true but hated admitting. She was starting to see a little of what he saw in the situation. A way out of the dumb cycle. "I mean...yeah, _sure_..." She causally shrugged one shoulder, "All of that stuff _is_ true."

"Yeah. It is. That's why I said it."

It was _still_ ridiculous, and she _had_ to be the voice of reason. _Had_ to be. Since he had abandoned all sanity, "But it's no basis for a marriage! No matter how...convenient and...and, relieving it may seem."

Her friend's eyes in turn, narrowed into thin slits, not in an aggressive of mean way, but in knowing manner. As if something had peeked his interest, "You're interested in this."

Helga scoffed, rolling her eyes and bringing her coffee to her lips as she tucked her other arm under her elevated elbow, " _Please..._ "

"You are," He accused again, "I've known you long enough to know when you are at least _remotely_ intrigued by something."

Yeah, she had to shut this down pronto, "Look, I'm going back inside, eating my breakfast, and finishing my much needed cup of caffeine here," She motioned into her house with her coffee cup, "I'm...meeting Pheebs in a few hours. I'll call you later about this."

"Are you su—"

"—Brian...go home..." She waved him off dismissively as she turned and walked back through her open door, leaving her friend high and dry outside.

"Alright..." He replied in an voice so low she wouldn't have been able to hear it as he watched her retreat, her door easing closed before he heard the click.

Well, that was _that_ he supposed.

* * *

It was official, Helga thought, her friend _was_ having some sort of early mid-life crisis, brought on by horror stories of aging. Which were overblown at best, but maybe it had given him a panicked complex. She sat down at the bar and began munching her cereal, still a little peeved about being interrupted, but surprised that her meal wasn't unreasonably soggy at that point. The whole thing was nuts! He was nuts. They couldn't just...get married because they were single...and lonely...and burnt out of dating.

Well...when it got put like that...

 _No!_

It didn't work that way. It made a mockery of everybody out there who got married for normal reasons. Like love...and...the fact that they'd found somebody that didn't drive the bonkers, and definitely because they were _meant_ to be together.

...Wasn't like she had anything else better going on though.

 _No!_

There was absolutely _no way_ she was going to let this whole idea even _slightly_ entertain her.

* * *

Brian arrived back home to his condo, feeling a little more disappointed than he though he would, or should have been. After all, there had been about an eight-five percent chance that she would call it crazy, and shoot the absurd plan down. She had, and...well, rightfully so because it kind of was just that. Absurd.

Still though, a lingering part of him felt that she was being entirely too hasty in banishing the proposition. He didn't have an specifics because he'd showed up at her house all half-cocked, but deep down, he felt like it could probably actually work. This thought came, not from some deep down romantic interest in her that he was just now suddenly realizing. No. It came from the two of them being very practical people—for the most part—and maybe it made sense for them to join their practicalness and be done and shielded from all of everybody else's _nonsense._

Of course, he figured there was at least a small part of her probably still hung up on Arnold, five years later. He shook his head, rolling his eyes very subtly. That was definitely one thing, he had _yet_ to understand about her.

But, he had hope that, that nagging bit of interest that he caught in her voice, would bug her enough to bring her back to the table for discussion.

This could be a good thing for them.

* * *

 **Noon.**

Helga and Phoebe met up for their monthly pedicure date. Something the petite raven haired woman had become increasingly fond of the more children she and Gerald had. Currently three with a pair of six month old twins running the house. Needless to say, she looked forward to her time away.

Her friend was laid back in the chair, looking like she needed a pair of cucumbers placed over her closed eyes and a mimosa in the other hand. For a moment, Helga thought that she might have actually fallen asleep until she asked, "So...how's the semester so far?"

"I've had four grannies tragically pass away since semester start," Helga stated, referencing the student emails she'd aready recieved about why they would be out for a few days.

"Seven thirty class? Isn't that a record?"

"Sure is," Helga chuckled, "I'm thinking about moving that class to nine instead. I feel like I might save lives by doing that."

"You have to think of all those poor grandmothers," Phoebe agreed with a chortle.

"What about you? Had any fun things happen at the office?"

In addition to having all of those kids running around, Phoebe had recently struck out on her own and opened up her own dentistry practice about a year prior. Call Helga a gluten for abuse, but she just loved hearing the grotesque stories of crap her friend found in peoples mouths.

It could be gnarly.

"Oh you know..." Phoebe began, not bothering to open her eyes as she talked, "A patients tooth fell out in the waiting room yesterday."

"Nice."

"He asked if we could put it back in for him." Helga snorted as her friend sighed, "I had to explain to him that that's not how teeth work."

"Yeah, let me just screw that right back in for you bud," The blonde chuckled.

"Other than that, just a little shorthanded since one of the hygienist is out."

"Sick?"

"Honeymoon."

"Right," Helga rolled her eyes.

* * *

 **That** **night** _._

 _'_ _Are you home?'_ Brian read the text from Helga on his phone.

 _'Yeah.'_

Barely a moment passed after he replied back before his doorbell droned, eliciting a curious eyebrow raise from him as he looked towards it. Giving his phone one last glance, he pocketed it as he walked over and pulled open the entryway a little slowly.

Helga.

There she was, standing there with some sort of decently sized white board tucked underneath one of her arms and a bottle of wine clutched in the other hand, "Sorry for just _showing_ up, but you kind of did it to me this morning...so...not sorry?"

Brian chuckled and moved aside to let her in as he re-pocketed his phone, "What's with the white board though?

"We're going to make a list," She sat the board down on his couch before walking off to his kitchen in search of the bottle opener. It probably seemed a little forward of her, just to go rooting through his cabinets and all, but she'd been to his house a million times, as with all their other friend's dwellings, and by that point, just knew were he kept things.

He followed her, giving the white board a fleeting glance, "You want to make a list? Of what?"

Helga looked up from the drawer she had just ushered open, "The pros and cons. You know," She pulled out the bottle opener and began twisting the screw into the cork, "So we can actually see what we'd gain, _practically,_ compared to what we'd lose."

A beaming smile broke out across the young man's face. "So you _are_ interested in the idea then?" He knew it.

Helga rolled her eyes, "I'm entertaining you. Mostly because it's Saturday night and I'm bored."

"Whatever. Let me get that," He insisted, walking up and taking the wine opening task from her. She gladly handed it over and went to retrieve a couple of dusty-ass wine glasses out of his drink cabinet. It was fairly obvious to anybody looking in that he was _not_ a wine lover like she was. He had no idea what a list would reveal, but he was more than excited that he had been right and that her faint curiosity had her anxious to see as well. Whether she wanted to admit it or not. Who brings a white board? "So, we're going to drink and make a list."

"Yep," She confirmed as she set two stemless glasses down on the counter, watching him effortlessly pop the cork and fill each one with a generous amount. Once he set the bottle back down, she took custody of one of the drinks and rounded the counter, back into his living area and proceeded to set up the board she'd bought for a game of charades that they'd had a million years ago.

Brian took possession of the remaining glass and followed her. "You're such a teacher," He teased.

"Alright, pro..." She drawled, writing the word at the top of the board, "And con..." She wrote it at the bottom, leaving enough space below each for plenty of things to be written. And she expected there would be... _plenty._ "So... _hypothetically,_ if we got married, what sort of things would we benefit from?" She posed the question while handing him a black dry-erase pen. And yes, she was definitely a _teacher_...

She was totally having to fight her normal urge to do the professor pace, as she waited for an answer.

The pair were silent for a moment before Brian walked over, popping the cap on the marker in hand and wrote, 'One mortgage' in the Pro section. It was a practical ice breaker in his opinion. "We would live together so we could sell one of our homes."

Helga nodded, lips pulling downward in a manner that suggested she was impressed by his start. An obvious thing she hadn't thought of. It didn't go unnoticed to him, "Well, to go along with that..." She reached over and wrote 'More disposable income' underneath his, "If we are both jointly paying for one mortgage, we'd have more money to do things."

"Cha-ching." Brian teased.

"But, honestly we both could save money there by just getting roommates."

"True..." Brian trailed off before his eyes lit up in thought, hand darting out eagerly to write it down. 'Reduced income taxes' "We can file as a married couple and stop getting hosed by Uncle Sam. Can't do _that_ with a roommate."

It was Helga's turn to chuckle a bit, "Actually..." She suddenly perked up a little herself, excited about something _she'd_ just thought about to go along with it. "On a similar note: what do you pay a month for insurance?"

"Too much."

Helga dead-eyed him. "How much is too much?"

"Like three seventy-five a month just for myself."

" _Wow_."

"Told you. What do you pay?"

"A hundred bucks."

"You've got that good university insurance. I work for a small business."

"For like...fifty bucks more I could add a spouse."

Brian leaned over and wrote, 'Cheaper insurance' and again said, "Cha-ching," before looking back over at her, "Out of curiosity, what are you pulling a year over there anyway?" This warranted a weird look from her. Call her old fashioned, but discussing income, religion and politics were still considered taboo topics to her, and it floored her a bit that he was asking such a private question.

"That's a little personal don't you think?" She scolded while taking a sip of her wine.

It was Brian's turn to deadpan her, "We're making a pro and con list over whether or not to get married..."

Helga conceded his point with a shoulder roll and a sideways head tilt of a nod. Okay, she _was_ being a little ridiculous in the grand scheme of ridiculous, "Fine..." In spite of agreeing, she still couldn't bring herself to say aloud her income. Instead she just lamely wrote a number on the board.

Brian smirked at her endearing oddness, "I don't know why you're so weird about it. You're doing well for yourself over there."

"Yeah, yeah. Alright, _bucko,_ your turn. Cough it up," She pointed to the board with her marker. Brian happily wrote down his number next to hers, versus just telling her.

Purely to humor her.

"Hmm," She sat propped her elbow on her hit, holding her glass away, "I would have thought you made more," As it left her mouth she quickly realized that she'd probably just royally insulted him, which was the last thing she was _actually_ trying to do. She simply had a preconceived notion about his career field that, _apparently_ , wasn't grounded in any sort of facts. And her mouth had decided to express such. Regardless, she quickly began backpedaling, "I mean, you still make _a lot_ more than me but...just surprising is all."

Thankfully he understood exactly what she was trying to say. 'Pilot' tended to be one of those career words that people filled in the blanks with everything TV had projected them as. "You're thinking of a commercial pilot. They're the ones making bank. I work for a private airport flying Cessna's."

" _Oh._ "

"Yep. It's a little different."

"The more you know," Helga smiled at him, "Regardless, we'd be looking at a significant increase in extra money to do fun things."

"I like fun things."

"Assuming neither of us have any other crazy expenses."

"House and utilities and crap like that is all I've got."

"Me too. Well and my car," She then sighed, propping one hand on her hip, bringing her glass to her lips while staring at the board, "We can't just sit here and get starry eyes over the financial gain. There _has_ to be other types of pros," She swallowed.

"Yeah..." Brian ran his hand over his short hair a few times, "You're right." He agreed before reaching over and writing, 'Helga cooks real food. Brian wouldn't have to eat out so much.'

"Wow..."

"What?" Brian snorted, "You asked for non-money related things."

"So you would gain food, and I would gain...?"

"Culinary fulfillment? A mouth to feed?" Helga rolled her eyes at him before reaching over and writing her own random pro on the board. Brian looked at it before chortling, "Brian can open up tight jars for Helga."

"You'll have to _earn_ your food at least," Helga chided him smartly.

"I mean, fair enough," He agreed and reached out to scrawl, 'Permanent Netflix pal,' "So, I've got a million shows I want to watch, and nobody to watch them with."

"What's wrong with watching them alone?"

Brian deadpanned her as if she were stupid, "Because I like to discuss things, duh."

"Okay then..." Helga then scribbled, 'Instant G.O.T. discussion buddy always around'

Brian motioned to her sentence with an open palm and quirked an eyebrow at her, "See. How nice would that be. There wouldn't be _any_ waiting until game nights to find out what everybody thinks about the latest episode—oh! You know how the rest of the gang are always doing those little double dates."

"Yeah."

"We'd get to participate in that. _Regularly._ "

"Yeah true..." Helga tapped her index finger on her lips, "They have this whole _other_ sub gang outside of our normal get togethers."

"Yep. So, I'm going to write this in the pro section, because it benefits me so...don't whine about it."

"Hey..." She teasingly glared at him as he wrote, 'Brian's parent's will finally shut up about him settling down.' She blinked at his chicken scratch before remarking, "It's lovely when parents leave you alone," She then wrote underneath his sentence, 'Helga's parents will continue not to care what she does.'

Brian leaned over, reading hers before giving her the side eye, "You know, many would consider that a con."

"Not if you grew up in my house."

A bit of silence nestled between them as he finished off his glass of wine. "We've got a lot of pros here."

"Yeah...a surprising amount."

"And no cons yet..."

"I've got one," She reached over and wrote, 'Could destroy friendship.' at the very bottom and underlined it for good measure.

Brian's eyebrows raised for a moment, "I mean...I don't really see _how_ at this point."

"Really?" She gave him an incredulous stare, "Because I can think of a major way."

"Well please, do tell what this _mysterious_ thing is that I'm _failing_ to see."

Helga boredly rolled her eyes, and sighed, "Wow...I can't believe _I_ have to be the one to point this out...to a man, no less," She leaned over and slowly wrote the word: 'Sex' with a question mark behind it off to the side of their list. _She_ considered it a con, but didn't want to appear bias.

"Oh," Brian's voice trailed off, biting his lip as his eyes widened, "So...yeah that." Yep. He'd _totally_ forgotten about such thing.

"Yeah, you know...what most _normal_ couples do...and often. Especially when married. How do you forget that?"

"I don't know!" Brian countered rather lamely. He hadn't any good come back other than absent mindedness, "There was so much other practical stuff that I...just didn't even think about it."

"Pretty practical thing in general. In my humble opinion, anyway."

"Yes, I know. _Thank you,_ " He chided, walking over to the kitchen counter and refilling his wine glass, taking a solid sip, "This could get weird real quick," He admitted. God, how had he not even _thought_ about that?

Helga sardonically snorted, "It's already weird."

"Don't take this the wrong way but..." He began as he grabbed the wine bottle, walked back over and sat it down on his coffee table, "I've never really had a romantic thought about you. Well I mean...not since I was like...nine or something anyway."

She waved him off. That wasn't insulting at all to her, "And I've _never_ had one about you," She empathized, looking back at the board, "Which means this needs to go into the 'con' section." As she started wiping the letters away with her hand, he threw up his palm in a 'hold on there' type of gesture.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa... _never?_ "

His friend stopped her motion and slowly turned her head back towards him, raising her eyebrows before shaking her head, "No."

"You've never _once_...checked me out?"

"No."

"Not _even_ while drunk?"

Helga finally huffed, " _No._ Why does it matter? You just told me the last time you checked me out was when we were kids! Which...I guess is why you were so creepy and got hit so much, but I don't think that even _counts._ "

"Okay, yeah. You're right. It doesn't count because we were kids, but, at the risk of sounding...weird..."

"This couldn't get _any_ weirder..."

"I _do_ find you attractive."

"And there it is."

Brian rolled his eyes, "Really?"

Helga sighed, "I get what you're trying to say. I think..."

"I think you're attractive but, as far as adulthood, I've never looked at you in any other way than my friend."

"Got it," She gave him a one finger salute. This was getting super awkward, super fast.

"I have shamefully checked you out though. When drunk."

"Okay...well, thank you...I guess," Helga replied, pulling her wine glass to her lips and desperately hoping that the conversation would die there.

She couldn't be so lucky though.

Brian stood there for a moment, waiting for her to say more, but she herself just stood there and stared at him even more awkwardly before diverting her eyes back to the board, "Oh...I was actually expecting some sort of...secret revelation from you or something."

"Seriously?" She scoffed irritably before re-planting her eyes on him. He pathetically shrugged under her gaze, "Fine. Since you obviously aren't going to let it go. The whole dad bod thing...weirdly works on you. How's that?"

"It's because I'm tall. Which is all women secretly want anyway," He perked up with a playful smirk, finally dragging a much needed chortle out of her person, helping clear the air a bit.

"Uh huh."

"It is."

"I guess."

"You guess? Have you _seen_ the guys you've dated?" He proceeded to call her out on her personal taste with a smirk, " _Skyscrapers._ "

Yeah, okay, she _did_ have a slight thing for taller men. But honestly, what girl didn't think it was crazy sexy? Yet, she got sucked into it, just like she knew he wanted her to, feeling the pressure to flatter his ego, "I mean if I didn't _know_ you, whatsoever, I _probably_ would check you out."

"That's it?"

Helga's face dropped, "What do you mean 'is that it'? What do you want? For me to tell you that I'd _maybe_ take you home if I were bored and drunk enough too?"

"Ouch. So I'm the bored and drunk type," He laughed.

"Criminey..." She exhaled, utterly exhausted by the conversation at that point. And one-hundred percent because of him, "No it's just...you're a handsome guy, but I _know_ you."

"Ah. You prefer to bang complete strangers then?"

Helga rolled her eyes, "No. And you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Well duh. It's why I said it could be weird."

"And that's the problem! We're _too_ good of friends."

"Agreed. I mean, I've pooped at your house before so...yeah, I'd say we're tight."

Helga narrowed her eyes at him, making to look back at the board,"The rest of this whole—" Suddenly feeling plagued by the remembrance of an odd incident from last fall, "I'm sorry, were you the one that wrecked my toilet on Halloween?" She whipped her head back around and stared at him with an accusatory glare.

Brian inhaled slowly, glancing away, about as guilty looking as he could possibly be and shrugged, "It's possible..." He admitted. He'd _definitely_ destroyed her bathroom last Halloween. Un-apologetically too.

"Oh come on!" She flopped her arms, "I had to get a plumber!"

"I'm sorry!"

"You owe me like $100, bucko."

"Okay no, something was wrong with that toilet to begin with," He defended with the cross of his arms, "It had had a slow flush to it since you bought the house."

"Well, _probably_ because you were dropping mega deuces in it!" She took a large gulp of her wine, face scrunching the more she thought about how gross the whole conversation had suddenly turned, "I've _never_ pooped at your house."

"Well, I wouldn't care if you have. In fact, you're welcome to. Anytime. Because we're tight!"

"No."

"Fine. Don't say the offer wasn't extended."

Helga shook her head, rolling her eyes, "Anyway...the rest of this whole thing..." She looked back over and made an air circle around their pro-list, "...works but, if one of the main pillars of a relationship doesn't...this is doomed from the start."

"You ever go so long without sex that you sort of forget how great it is?" Was he kidding? He had to be kidding. What type of question was that? Helga gritted her teeth for a second before turning back to him with a tired type of grimace on her face. First he freely admitted he'd destroyed her perfectly working toilet a year ago, now he was on to talking about this personal crap?!

Utterly unbelievable.

"Did you not even _hear_ what I just said?"

"No I did," He confirmed, shaking his head as if he'd been lost in thought, "I just zoned out for a second."

"Let me guess..."

"The last time I got some action."

"It was rhetorical."

"An entire year ago from a Tinder date."

"Didn't ask, but okay."

"And believe me, from one friend to another. It was _not_ worth it. At all..." He vehemently shook his head, recalling crazy, weird soul energy girl, that had refused to leave him alone for a solid month after their hook-up. This made Helga chuckle and him to begin eyeing her, "What? It's not funny."

Helga rolled her eyes, still laughing, "It is. And if you are trying to solicit sympathy from me, look elsewhere. I'm on an year long drought myself. I just think it's funny that you resorted to _Tinder_ to get laid. You might as well have walked into a crowded room and yelled, 'Who want's to have sex?'"

"First of all, I was _legitimately_ trying to see what girls were out there," He crossed his arms as matter-of-factly, "Secondly, I _don't_ booty call—Hey, wait, who were you secretly seeing a year ago?" He pointed at her, "I don't recall you dating anybody then."

"You stalking me?"

"Wouldn't be the first time. Also Phoebe seems super invested in your love life..."

"Unfortunately."

"You know, when it _is_ in existence."

"Of course..."

"Much like mine."

"Why we're here."

"And I don't remember her talking about it around that time."

Helga inhaled a huge breath, while closing her eyes and tapping the rim of her glass lightly against her forehead. Finally looking up she asked, "Do you remember Jared?" Surprisingly, Brian just stared blankly at her, "The mortgage underwriter at Hillwood Credit Union?" He continued staring blankly at her. "Into marathon running?" He shrugged, "I brought him to a few of our game nights?" Nothing. She tossed her blue eyes, "He had like ten siblings?"

"Oh, that guy."

" _That's_ what you remember about him?" She incredulously asked.

"It's just unusual this day in time to have that many brothers and sisters," Brian defended himself, "It's a very memorable quality."

"Anyway..."

"But you broke up with him like a year and half ago..."

Helga sighed, now her turn to feel a little ashamed of herself. Especially after giving him such a hard time, but criminey, she didn't expect him to have such good memory about her love life, "Yeah, I _did_ do that...but we ran into each other at the rooftop bar and...we had a few too many drinks and I was bored and lonely and...well you know how _that_ goes."

"You booty called an ex..." Brian thinned his eyes at her in a comical way, "And you gave me grief over my tinder date. I would be appalled but that is _so_ like you."

"Oh is it?"

"Yep."

"Whatever. We are getting super off subject here."

"Alright, well...could you or could you not ever bring yourself to bang me?" He held his arms out, and smiled brightly, "Back on subject."

"What kind of question is that?" Helga felt herself turning a little red even spending a minimal amount of brain power thinking of such activity with him.

"A valid one! You just spent the better part of ten minutes pointing it out."

"With a lot more tact!"

"I mean..as good as the rest of the perks of marriage are..." He said, jutting his hands at the 'pro' section, "I like sex, and would like to do more than remember it fondly. I _assume_ you do too."

"Oh, what gave it away?" She mockingly teased in a sassy voice as she held her glass at her lips.

"Your booty call."

Helga rolled her eyes, "It wasn't a booty call," She grumbled.

"Well, here would be the options we're looking at: we get married, gain all these perks and...sleep each other, or we forget the whole thing and continue on with the suck fest known as modern dating. So again, could you bring yourself to bang me? Like...I don't know...indefinitely?"

"Can't you find any better word to use? You bang pots and pans together," She scolded. Mostly because she wasn't prepared to answer the question just yet. She wasn't really sure she'd ever be. He was her friend!

"I will, if you just answer the damn question."

"Same to you," She punted the ball right back to him. Only to see him sigh and slightly roll his eyes as he propped his hands on his hips. "We're both dancing around it, aren't we?"

"Yep."

"It's because what we're _really_ asking one another here is...could we ever learn to be content with each other," Helga finally just threw it out there. The one big, underlying question mark on the whole entire proposition, "And be more than...just friends without flat out forcing it or...coming to resent one another for it."

She and Brian stood in silence, eyeballing one another before he glanced off and ran a hand through his hair, gliding it down and resting it on the back of his neck, "I don't know," He replied with an honest shrug of the shoulders. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything. "But, I just feel like I need something to change, even if it's something super crazy. And at this point, I would be willing to take a shot. What have we got to lose?"

"Bitch-fests about dating," She absently figured aloud.

"The horrors of having to meet somebody."

"Ugh...hate meeting somebody's," Helga agreed with a subtle nod.

Brian shook his head, "It's the worse...trying to figure out what they like..."

"And then trying to figure out what weird stuff they do."

"And if you can live with it..."

"...which you never can."

The pair again, found themselves in a spat of silence while they just stared at one another, both realizing the pieces were there, but would they all fit in harmony. Or could they _ever_ fit in harmony.

"What if we agreed that, if it turns out to be a raging dumpster fire of an idea, we tap out before we destroy our friendship?" He persuaded, juggling his hands like a scale, "Our safe word could be 'fire hydrant'." He teased to lighten the air a bit. It worked because she quietly laughed. "So...? Yes?"

She still didn't want to answer. It was too big of a decision. Instead she poured herself another glass of wine and downed the entire thing in several gulps as Brian stood and watched. When she was done with it, she dramatically threw the glass to the carpet, "Whoo! I was expecting that to break for some reason," She said, shutting her eyes as she felt the alcohol go straight to her head, "Forgot you have carpet."

"Is...is that a yes?" Brian asked, eyeballing the glass.

As hopeful as he was, he was decidedly disappointed when she _still_ shook her head 'no,' "I can't make this decision tonight."

"So...tomorrow?"

Cracking her eyes open, she deadpanned him, " _Seriously?_ "

"Okay, okay, okay...take your time. It's not like we've got anything else going on."

"I see what you did there."

* * *

 **Thursday Night.**

Helga had left Brian's condo the night of their white board party, and spent the following week tossing and turning over the proposition. She just kept getting hung up on the whole...getting intimate with him thing. It wasn't because she had some weird, prude complex or anything like that. She was a hot-blooded female and she had her needs too. And, those needs had sometimes led her into some embarrassing decision making—no, despite what he said, she still didn't consider it a booty call—but this was different. Sure, Brian was a great guy and he was handsome in that classic sort of way. She hadn't been lying to him. She wouldn't be so cruel. He was dependable, trustworthy...and _tall_.

And most importantly, just as jaded as she was.

He had all the makings of a good partner.

But there was just that small obstacle that she still couldn't quite get her head on board with:

He. Was. Her. Friend.

They could check all the boxes they wanted, but at the end of the day that didn't make it to where they could suddenly see each other in a romantic or sexual way.

She found the whole boiling turmoil at the forefront of her mind that trivia night, versus helping her team, 'Trivia Newton John'—thank you Sid—to victory. Mainly because Brian was sitting right next to her. Why? Because there wasn't a spare seat next to anybody else.

As usual. They got paired off together because everybody had somebody to sit next to. Their spouses.

She'd give him credit though. He hadn't subtly tried to ask her about it, nor did he act weird. They'd carried on their usual conversations with each other and everybody else. She did wonder what sort of scenario problems he was trying to wrap his head around. He'd been more willing to pull the trigger, but mostly because he didn't mind jumping in and asking questions later.

After all, he apparently hadn't even considered the sexual part of a marriage. Maybe he didn't consider it _as_ big of a deal.

Men could be strange creatures, for sure.

At the end of the night, he finally turned in his seat, a tired smile gracing his face, "You we're off your game tonight Pataki. Normally you kill it with your knowledge of useless things," He playfully said.

"Well I am but a mere mortal," She chuckled, turning towards him as she gathered her tote bag, "And considering the week, I've got quite a bit on my mind."

"So do I."

"I see we're on the same page then," She gave him a ghost of a smirk before Stinky started clinking a fork on side of his empty beer glass as if he were planning to give a toast to the group. Or maybe a pep talk for next week. They had lost that night.

"Well, we figured this would be as good of time as ever to share our announcement with everybody," He said with a beaming smile.

"We're expecting!" Amy squealed.

"I thought it was fishy you weren't drinking last week!" Harold exclaimed, all wide eyed as he pointed at the girl.

And excited hoopla ensued from their fellow friends, nobody having a chance to notice that Helga and Brian were the only two still just sitting in their seats, both wearing the most dumbfounded expressions.

Stinky Peterson.

Husband.

Father?

And probably grandfather by the time they got their love lives together.

Utter _madness_.

* * *

Brian went home that night, pulled a can of lightly flavored orange sparkling water from his fridge, popped the top and flopped down on his couch, slowly sipping as he synthesized the night.

Was that guy like, out on a mission or something?

First, he finally gets a date, but that's not good enough. No. _Then,_ said date happens to also be _the one._ But why stop there right? He and _the one_ tie the knot. Lovely! Thought it couldn't get any worse? _Wrong!_ Then he and Mrs. _The one_ decide to procreate too.

It would probably be an adorable kid too.

He sighed. He knew he was being uncharacteristically mean spirited about everything. He was happy for his friend. Really, he was. He was just frustrated with everything involving himself. Too the fullest extent too.

The best he could hope for at this point was that maybe Helga was thinking a little more about their pact.

* * *

And he would be right.

Because a few miles away, she was. Once home she had found herself sitting in her writing room, also drinking a can of lightly flavored key lime sparkling water, staring at the email screen on her imac while her itunes shuffled music, but more firmly caught up in her mind than anything she was doing.

So...Stinky was out in the world, creating other human beings like a champ—jeez, _barf_ —and she was thirty and strongly considering getting a cat...or two. Or...marrying her, also single and thirty guy friend.

While she was in the middle of considering how slippery of a slope cats might be, out of her computer speakers came the charming and iconic voice of Freddie Mercury, singing, _"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy..."_

Helga scowled, quickly reaching out and roughly smashing her keyboard's space bar, "Oh, _come on!_ "

* * *

 **Saturday** **morning**.

By Saturday, she had firmly ruled out cats. It was too defeatist. Not that, marrying a friend out of desperation wasn't excepting defeat or anything, but it would be easier to...play off. She didn't want to become the groups cat lady and be known for quirky videos involving one of her ten fur babies riding a Roomba she would feel _compelled_ to purchase.

God, then she would be known as the lonely cat lady professor who had nothing better to do than conduct an unfairly hard class curriculum. Or, well, at least according to the 'rate my professor' score she was sure would exist reflecting such feelings by students who were going to fail her class regardless.

Eh, she didn't want the reputation though.

She hated to admit it, seeing as life was entirely too short to just _settle,_ but if a gun were held to her head with the explicit instruction that she had to pick one or the other, with zero option of Arnold returning, she'd have to pick the marriage of convenience with Brian.

Yes, that included all the awkward...intimate things too.

She slipped out of her pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a tee, planning to hit him up at his house before she lost the nerve over her final decision. Having grabbed her keys from the kitchen hook, she had just walked out her front door when she saw him getting out of his truck on the street, giving her a surprised stare as the closed the door behind him.

"Uh..." He began.

Helga paused at pulling her front door shut, "Oh..."

"Were uh...were you headed somewhere?" He realized that it was a stupid question before he asked it, but he had nothing better.

She could play off that she was going to get some breakfast or something but, she didn't feel like lying about something so stupid so early in the morning, "I...was actually headed to your house."

Brian's eyebrows rose and a lopsided smirk parted his lips, "Is this our new thing? Just showing up at one another's homes now?" Helga got that he was attempting to make a stupid joke, but it still didn't prevent her face from dead panning and her waving her arm and open palm at him, wordlessly pointing out that he was already there. "I was out getting McGriddles again and..."

"Yes," Helga blurted out, just skipping all the rest of what she knew he was going to be asking about, and feeling her heart begin to hammer up into her throat.

Though he had a coffee in hand, Brian's mind wasn't the sharpest that morning. And even though he was explicitly there to, once again, have a discussion about their proposition, he didn't immediately connect it with her sudden outburst. So he just blinked, "Yes?"

Helga exhaled, reaching up and running her hand down her face, suddenly regretting her assumption, "Oh...crap...you're here because you've changed your mind..." She muttered, but just loud enough for him to hear.

And at that point, realized what her 'yes' had meant. His eyes shot wider, the palm of his free hand thrusting forward in a stop motion as he stuttered, "No, no! Sorry I've had like two sips of this coffee and I..."

"I think we should just do it," Helga said, once again, not waiting for him to finish what she already understood.

"Was it the Stinky and Amy thing?"

"I mean...mostly," Helga admitted, proceeding to walk down her porch steps so they could have a proper conversation versus semi-yelling up and down at one another. "And cats..."

"Cats?"

She shook he head and waved it off, "It's not important. But...if you're still up for this then—"

"—I am," He hastily replied, "It's obviously why I'm here. To bug you more. And whine about how—"

"—Stinky has more game than you? Figured," Helga teased with a slight smirk.

"Hey..." Brian faux glared at her before shrugging, "But yeah, pretty much."

"So...here's the deal. We're going to commit to this...marriage of convenience and we can iron out the details on some things later, but...I'm in no way comfortable going one hundred percent in _just yet._ " She sternly explained. She thought that it was fair. She wasn't okay with just _jumping_ into the pool so to speak.

She _had_ to ease in.

"You mean like no—"

"—Yes. I'm not saying like...forever I just...need a little time to get used to that idea. With you. No offense."

"None taken," Brian hadn't any problem with that. In fact he would have been completely caught off guard by her wanting one hundred percent of a marriage right up front. And honestly, a little scared. "I'm more than okay with that. It would weird me out a little too much sleeping with you right away anyway. If we're being honest. No offense." He had figured that, in it's on weird way, getting married would be like dating each other...without the added pressure or...expectations. If they were in the scheme for the long haul, there was no point in rushing anything. They'd figure out what needed to be figured out or...

Well, there was the safe word and they'd bail out.

"Absolutely agree," Helga quietly sighed in relief. She thought he heard quite a bit in his own voice too. They were on the same page at least.

"So...when do you want to get the ball rolling?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Alright, so...they both have agreed. How is getting into the routine of things going to work out for them? Are they making a huge mistake or will they surprise themselves? Stay tuned!


	3. Rock, Paper, Scissors

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

 **A/N:** Well, I'm back. Chapter 3!

* * *

 **Rock, Paper, Scissors.**

One week, one application, two forms of ID, a sixty dollar fee, an additional two day wait time, a set of semi-formal attire, a short day at work, one King county courthouse and by the power invested in the state of Washington, they were officially _married._ Conveniently and legally. Traditionally? Obviously not. They hadn't even exchanged rings. Hadn't even put the slightest thought into buying a set at that point. What was the rush?

Helga stood on the courthouse steps, still awkwardly staring at the signed documents in hand while Brian wrapped up a work related phone call. She was officially...a Mrs. Her stomach felt a little weird. She wouldn't call it dread but...honestly, she didn't know _what_ to call it. It felt like that feeling she'd gotten in the past right before she'd had to take a really hard test in school.

If she were to attempt to describe it, that is.

Of course she'd always assumed that this day would eventually come, she'd just never imagined that it would be like this. Or at this age. Or at a courthouse. Or with _Brian._

Life was hella weird when one got off track of their pre-destined story.

"Already having second thoughts?" Her...husband—nope, too soon— _Brian_ chuckled, having quietly sneaked up behind her, finished with his conversation, and peeking over her person to see what she was staring zombie like at.

Helga sighed, "Yeah...but I just keep reminding myself...cats."

He walked around her, seemingly unbothered by her reply, "I still don't know what that means, but okay," He said and they both began descending the marble steps leading towards the street where they walked in silence until they climbed into his truck, "So, what's the game plan?" He cranked the engine, but felt no need to put the vehicle in gear until he knew where they were going.

"Well, I suppose we need to figure out whose stuff is going where."

"That's easy. We'll just move your stuff to my condo."

Helga turned towards him, casting him an absurd look as she snorted, "I don't think so."

He should have known that she was going to be disagreeable about it, but he wasn't really sure _what_ her disagreement stemmed from, and in turn, he gazed back at her in wonderment, "Why? My condo is a little bigger than your town house and has that great balcony overlooking the city. It's a no brainer."

"Yeah, but you have like three whole pieces of furniture," She countered, highlighting the fact that he had very little taste in home decor and was very much a minimalist. Or just a typical man. Whichever. "It would be far easier for you to move to my house." Also, she wasn't going to live in a bachelor pad. Which is what his condo was. An uninspiring _bachelor_ pad.

At least not without a fight anyway.

Admittedly, she was right. He was a simple man, with simple tastes, and decorating a dwelling just wasn't something he wanted to spend time doing. But, that didn't mean he wanted to leave his home of four years. "I have the better parking situation," He then suggested, "I have a parking garage, you have that tiny little driveway that there is no way my truck can fit up in, so one of us will always be on the street."

"Your condo is only two bedrooms, where am I supposed to put my writing room?"

"You can have half of my vinyl room."

"Criminey..." Helga exhaled, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back against the headrest, "This is already off to a lovely start."

"Should we..." She heard his voice crack up in stifled laughter, "Make a list?"

The young blonde woman cracked her eyes open into thin, unamused slits and slid her blue orbs in his direction, giving him a firm glare, while fighting the urge to swat him, "Last time I made a list with you, I got talked into _this_. I'll pass."

"Suit yourself. Rock, paper, scissors it is then." Brian held his hands up in the starting position for the game.

Helga merely stared at him for a few solid seconds, expecting him to withdraw jokingly. He didn't. "Oh. You're serious." She finally realized.

"Uh huh. We'll settle this right now."

"No."

"Yes."

" _No._ "

" _Yes_..." He drawled in a more playful voice, mocking her pitch a bit.

Rolling her eyes, his new wife lightly huffed, " _Fine._ " She then held her hands up, mimicking his.

"Rock, paper, scissors!" They both simultaneously went through the motions, he settling on scissors and she on rock.

"I win. My house," She smirked at him smartly, extremely pleased that she'd beat him at his own game and settled the matter for good.

"Oh come on! Best two out of three at least," He re-challenged. He wasn't giving up his condo that easily. Helga shrugged. She was feeling lucky at that point. "Rock, paper, scissors!" He picked paper, she picked scissors.

"Wow, would you look at that," Helga feigned surprise, "My house again."

"Okay, fine," He begrudgingly agreed. While not thrilled about losing and having to give up his condo, a bet was a bet, and she'd won fair and square. "Your house it is. But this isn't over."

"How? You're moving into my house. Seems pretty over."

"I'm sure they'll be plenty more things to have re-matches over."

"Fair enough," She reluctantly admitted, knowing that he was probably spot on about that. "So, do you want to plan to move this weekend or what?"

"Yeah, that'll be fine. I don't really have time this week." Brian finally started the vehicle, figuring he'd just drop her off at her house— _their_ house.

"Me either," Helga then leaned her elbow on his center console and cast him an inquiring glance as he pulled out of the parking spot, "So...random thought. Uh...what are we going to tell the gang?"

Brian's lips parted with a, "Ah...the gang..." He drawled out slowly, almost as if we hadn't thought the slightest about them. Maybe because he hadn't. "The ole' gang. I haven't told anybody."

"Neither have I."

"Really?" He side-eyed her, a bit of surprise written across his face, "Not even Phoebe?" Surely Phoebe had some inkling about what was going on.

"Um, no. Why would I tell her about this?"

"I don't know. She just seems to know everything about you is all."

"Maybe because she's a very observant best friend?" Helga's eyes then thinned in thought, "Too observant if you ask me. But no, I haven't told a soul about this...this..."

"Marriage."

"Hmm, no, I like the word arrangement better."

"I guess you technically aren't wrong. It's an arranged marriage," He smirked as they drove along.

"So what do you want to tell everybody? That we are pathetic?"

"Jeez, when you put it like that..."

"What?" She snorted, "It's true."

"Personally, I'd rather tell them that we've been secretly dating or something."

Helga snorted again in laughter, "Nobody's going to believe that."

"Why not?" Brian disagreed, "Stinky found love. So we know that God does work in mysterious ways."

"More like stranger things happen."

"Okay, Mrs. Pessimistic—"

"—Oh, is that our last name now?" Helga taunted, to the perturbed eye-roll of her partner.

"Why wont they believe this?"

"Because..." Helga lamely replied, however when he kept looking over at her, expecting something more than such a lame cop-out, she finally huffed, "Because it's me and you. We've never...shown any interest, whatsoever in one another or...I don't know... _chemistry_ or whatever. They'll see right through it."

"Please. I think we could sell us just fine. We're always each other's game partner, so it's not like we'd have to behave _that_ much differently around each other in public. I'll just start throwing my arm over the back of your chair."

"What?"

Brian shrugged, grinning slightly, "You know...arm over the back of the chair. It's the universal sign of 'we're together'."

For the second time, she let her head fall back against the seat and sighed, closing her eyes, "Dear Lord..."

"Who performeth miracles beforith our very eyes with brother Stinky," Brian said through laughter before sighing, "Alright, well, either we fake it to make it or just admit that we're pathetic. To our friends. Our best friends. Our... _whole_ group of best friends. Lifelong friends. Friends who we see every—"

"—I get it."

"Your choice."

Helga inhaled before letting go of a groan as she turned her head back towards him, "If we fake it, we're going to get a million questions. What if we can't keep our story straight? That'll be even _more_ embarrassing."

"If we admit we're pathetic, we're going to get a million questions," Brian pointed out right as he pulled to the curb in front of her house— _their_ house. "So...?"

The young blonde woman finally threw her hands up in defeat, "Let's fake it." If she were going to have to answer a million questions, she rather not have the added factor of potential judgment and sympathy from their friends.

"It'll be fine."

"Yeah, yeah..." Helga un-enthusiastically replied while reaching for the door latch to make her exit. "I'll call you later and we can discuss a game plan for Thursday. Or I'll just show up at your house. I've yet to decide."

"Sounds good," Brian chuckled as he watched her slid from his truck and close the door behind her. "See you."

Once inside, Helga picked her mail up off the floor and leaned back against her closed door, court documents still in hand as she stared around at the house she'd soon be sharing with her... _spouse._ Her non-Arnold spouse. Her non-Arnold-childhood-friend-she'd-never-had-any-romantic-interest-in- _spouse._

She exhaled before proceeding to take a look at her mail, noticing a postcard from the Hillwood Animal Shelter, advertising the coming weekend's no adoption fees on all cats, "Oh come on!" She threw the article up in the air in, quite possibly, the most animated and offended way imaginable.

* * *

 **Thursday Trivia Night.**

Brian and Helga opted to ride together to Buckets, figuring if they were going to try to sell the idea that they got married because they were secretly seeing each other, they at least should commit to the subtle things as well. They hadn't planned out their backstories as much as Helga would have liked them to. _Yay_...improv. What could _possibly_ go wrong with _that_. Plenty, but there they were anyway. It wasn't ideal, but after spending over an hour arguing about the story—Brian insisting on a tale that was right out of a Taylor Swift song. The ones before she got all...scorned and what-not—they finally agreed that if anybody asked, they had started secretly seeing each other about a year ago, and had just winged it from there.

As much as she hated to admit it, Brian was probably right about one thing. The gang _would_ be surprised, but she had started to really doubt they would question their claim. All things considering. Simply because neither one of them had been actively dating for almost a year, nor were they the type that talked about their woefully disastrous love lives in excess to anyone other than each other.

And, well...Stinky and...miracles or...possibly some sort of sorcery. The jury was still out, but hey, at least their lie had a shot at seeming believable at that point.

Most of the gang were already seated, animatedly talking about their weeks as the pair breezed up to the hodgepodge of tables they scooted together weekly.

"What's up?" Brian greeted as he pulled out two chairs for he and the missus.

"Either one of you got a good name tonight? We're all drawing blanks," Harold forwent any sort of normal reply and just cut to the chase.

"Tequila Mockingbird," Helga immediately replied without a second thought as she hung her bag on the back of her chair.

Brian turned a looked at her, "Nice," He complimented.

"Dang, Pataki, you come up with that on the fly?" Harold asked.

The blonde woman snorted, "Actually, I've had that one in my back pocket for awhile. Waiting for you name sluts to run out of ideas," She teased, pointing her finger between her hefty friend and Sid, whom was sitting right beside him. The two chief trivia namers of the group.

"Hey, I can't help my brain is expertly equipped for inventing great punny group names," Sid defended his title of name slut proudly.

"Well that explains everything," Gerald teased as he walked up with a couple drinks in his hand, Phoebe trailing behind him.

"Don't hate 'cause you jealous."

"So, what _is_ our name tonight?" The couple seated themselves across from Brian and Helga, "You two finally decide yet?"

"Helga did."

"And?"

"Tequila Mockingbird."

"Ohhh...that's spicy Pataki," Gerald remarked, "And classy too."

* * *

Trivia night proceeded like it did every other Thursday, fortune shinning brightly upon them that night after a two week losing streak. Helga had almost forgotten, in the midst of good fun, that at some point that night, they had to break the news to everybody. The sudden thought gave her that fleeting shot of dread that temporarily sped up her heart. She wondered if Brian was having the same feeling. Judging by his unwavering smile and non-stop jovial laughter with everybody, she figured not.

He had done the whole, arm over the back of her chair when he'd reclined back in his own seat, and she wondered if anybody had noticed his 'universal sign' or whatever.

Once their game had wrapped up, and everybody was finishing up their drinks and what was left of their assortment of appetizers, Brian cast Helga a brief glance, wordlessly letting her know he was going to say something, a look that she replied to with an even more subtle pop of her eyebrow.

"So, everybody, I have an announcement to make..." Brian began, leaning back in his chair and once again, extending his arm out across the back of Helga's seat, "Or well, _we_ have an announcement that is." He corrected while giving his new wife a reassuring smile.

Their friends all quieted down as all eyes turned on them. Except for the, "Boy howdy..." Sid could be heard muttering under his smirk, "You guys got drunk, banged and now have a bun in the oven don't you? _Classic._ "

" _Sid!_ " Sheena harshly elbowed her husband.

"What?" Sid defended, outstretching his arms towards the pair, "I'm kidding! Although, who starts an announcement that way if it's not..." He trailed off, seeing his wife's glare become even more firm before clearing his throat, "Well, we're all thinking it I'm sure!"

"It doesn't _matter_ if we're _all_ thinking it," Sheena argued back, "You can't just say it aloud."

"Actually I thought they might be announcing they'd pick up the tab or something..." Harold said, eyes falling down to the table as he drummed his fingers on the lacquered wood while the whole gang shifted their gazes to him. "But that works too."

Patty could only roll her eyes at her husband.

"So, even better...we got married!" Brian smiled wider, holding his arms out wide, "Surprise!"

There. It was all out in the open.

And as predicted, everybody's collective eyes shot open along with a fair share of mouths, and a, "Wow...plot twist." could barely be heard over the sudden hacking erupting out of Eugene's person. A hacking that everyone sat and awkwardly long amount time through as they continued to stare at the pair, trying to digest their shocking news.

There was something else not digesting too. Whatever Eugene was still coughing over.

"Oh my God, he's really choking," Nadine shrieked, "Honey! Hold on!" She jumped from her seat and began trying to administer the Heimlich maneuver on her husband.

"Open his mouth! I'll finger sweep him!" Sid exclaimed.

"He's not a child!"

"The principles the same!"

"I've got this!" Harold pushed Eugene's frantic wife out of the way, before wrapping his giant arms around his friend and giving him a swift up heave, sending a half-eaten mozzarella stick flying out onto the table.

"Well, this is off to a great start," Helga turned and looked at Brian, "We almost killed Eugene."

"He went temporarily blind last week because he accidentally rubbed jalapeño in his eyes. I take no responsibility for this," Brian replied as he glanced back at her.

"I'm okay!" Their red-headed friend wheezed.

"Well, now that _that's_ over with," Rhonda drawled, grimacing as she leaned forward and delicately placed a napkin over the mozzarella stick, "Married? Why on earth would _you two_ be married, exactly?"

Yes, the near death of their ridiculously danger-prone friend had done little to distract anybody from their bombshell announcement. Helga shuttered to think what that said about their nucleus as a whole, but that was for another day of pondering. Phoebe was the only one not murmuring a million questions, in fact, the woman hadn't said anything. She just sat there across from Helga, staring at her in an inquisitive manner. Like she was trying to read Helga's energy to decipher the truth.

If somebody was going to deliver a deathblow to this lie, it was going to be Phoebe. To Helga's surprised though, her friend never did voice an opinion or reaction.

Which meant Phoebe would certainly strike later, and Helga was already dreading it.

"Yeah, what gives?"

"He's been doing the...the—the arm thing."

"I'm telling you, they hooked up an—" Before Sid could finish, his wife smacked him in the back of the head.

"I mean, she _is_ drinking water tonight."

"Yeah, she _never_ drinks water..."

"I don't think I've seen her drink water in ten years..."

"Crimeny!" Helga finally blurted out, having had enough of their stupid speculations. "I had Chinese as a late lunch, and it was very salty, and all I drank with it was a soda, and I'm still freakin' thirsty!" Also, did she _really_ drink _that_ much? Uh _-gah._ Something else to ponder on at a later time, "So, if everybody will shut their _pie holes_ for a _flippin'_ second, we'll explain," She inhaled deeply as she picked up her almost empty water glass and tossed it back, crunching on some ice for good measure. Their friends did simmer down after her outburst. Thankfully. She finally looked at the guy sitting beside her, "Yeah, it seems out of the blue but, Brian and I have...actually been seeing each other...on the down low...on and off for a year."

That whole sentence tasted so strange in her mouth. So much so that she had to make a real effort to control her facial expressions.

" _Really?_ " Gerald skeptically blurted out. With well justified doubt, no less. Knowing Helga, he was having a hard time believing she would do something so...anti-Arnold as...marrying another man, much less one of their friends.

" _Yes."_ Helga copped back in a grouchy like tone. "What's so hard to believe about that?"

"Oh, I'll tell you what. The _entire_ idea that you two have been sneaking around, hooking up for almost a year, that's what." Gerald's eyes thinned in even more suspicion, though, for the life of him, he couldn't find any sort of angle they could be working, with such a... _giant_ life leap. Unless of course she was just settling for the sake of settling.

Oh how over the target he was _so_ unaware that he was.

While Helga sat there, inwardly cringing at Gerald's skepticism, Brian, thankfully, nodded and reassured him with, "That's exactly what we've been up to."

" _Why_ all the sheisty sneaking around though?" Curly butted in with his own air of suspicion.

By then, Helga had finally snapped out of her internal cringe fest long enough for her and Brian to simultaneously shrug, "We didn't want a million questions in case it didn't work out," His answer was the most simple. And the good news was, their friends seemed to buy it.

For that night anyway.

All bets were off once they all had time to go home and ponder it in great length.

"Gee wilikers, this is crazy. Well, congratulation," Stinky said with a big smile as he held up his nearly empty beer glass towards the two newlyweds.

* * *

"That actually went better than I expected," Brian said in a chipper tone as they climbed into her car.

"Are you kidding," Helga scoffed, digging her key into the ignition, "My phone is about to get blown _up_ by Phoebe. Did you see how quiet she was about the whole thing?"

"I mean, maybe she didn't have any questions?" Brian lamely tried.

"Oh no. No, no, no, _no._ " She laughed despite not finding anything funny about it, "She was just watching, and waiting to pounce."

"She'll be happy for you. You finally found love." He said while gesturing with finger quotes.

"Ha... _ha,_ " She sarcastically replied with very thinned eyes before deciding to let it go. After all, she actively aided in bringing the current situation onto herself. Couldn't exactly hate the game if one were wiling to play it. "So, serious question though..." Her mind jumped to the only other thing bothering her that night, "Do you think I drink too much?"

Brian chuckled, " _I've_ never worried about you," He reassured. Of course he didn't know how much reassurance that was. Judging by her eye-roll, not much. "I mean, I don't think you drink anymore than I do."

Pulling out of the parking lot, Helga turned the car in the direction of his house, "Well, _swell_ then. Maybe next time you have a glass of water in public the whole gang will jump to conclusions about your reproductive habits too."

"Hmm...more likely a kidney stone, but isn't that kind of strangely hilarious though?"

"What?"

"That they all just...assumed that about us."

"It's the _gang,_ " She had no other way of explaining their group of friends other than just simply calling them...the gang, but the writer in her felt compelled to describe everything further than necessary anyway, "A sitcom consisting of at least eight seasons and a disappointing finale could be written about us. _However_ , in all honesty, you kind of framed it that way with the whole, 'we've got an announcement to make' intro..." Helga finally pointed out.

"There was really no other way to announce that...well, that we had an actual announcement to make," He explained with what had been his dilemma all through the outing, "I guess I could of said, 'Hey, we did something crazy earlier this week'?"

"Surprisingly, that sounds even worse," Helga disagreed, grimacing a little.

"See, no good way of making the announcement without speculation."

"It's because they're gluttons for drama."

" _So_ drama thirsty."

* * *

And Helga had been right. No sooner had she walked through her front door, she felt her phone vibrating in her back pocket. She didn't even need to inspect the caller ID. "Yep?" Was her only greeting into her cell, her face settling into the least amount of amusement possible, despite anybody being able to see it.

 _"What are you up to?"_ Phoebe straight up asked. God she missed the days of her friend not being so blunt. The days when she was a shy and reserved girl. She blamed Gerald entirely. Well, not entirely. Having three kids had a little something to do with it too.

"What do you mean, what am I up to?" Helga decided to play dumb, though, not really understanding why she bothered at that point. It wasn't going to work.

 _"I don't know, maybe the whole you're dating our friend and now you two are married?"_

"Oh right...that..."

 _"And you never felt the need to tell me? Not once. In **supposedly** a year?" _Helga could plainly hear the disbelief oozing out of the last part of that sentence.

Yet, intertwined in that, she thought Phoebe actually sounded more butt hurt at the idea of being left out of the loop of knowledge than anything else, "It's nothing personal. We...we just didn't want a million questions. Like we said."

 _"I'm your best friend."_

"And here you are, asking a million questions. Exactly what we _didn't_ want."

 _"I'm. Your. Best. Friend."_

"Well, would you rather me still be pinning over Arnold?" Helga questioned, coming off a little bit more irritably than she intended to. Phoebe had every right to be a little butt hurt about what she _thought_ had been going on. Under her nose, no less.

Her friend sighed, relinquishing the point a bit, " _No._ _Arnold wasn't a healthy obsession."_

"Obsession is a strong word."

 _"You had a gum shrine of him in your closet when we were nine..."_

"This is why I don't tell you things," Helga hissed.

 _"But Brian?"_

And at that, Helga felt her brows pulling together into a furrow, "What's wrong with him?" She said, suddenly finding herself becoming defensive. It may have been a phony marriage of convenience, but nobody was going to cut down the quality of her spousal choice.

Phoebe could be heard sighing through the phone, _"There's nothing wrong with him. It's just so...sudden and...out of character for you is all."_

"Well, we all have character flaws..." Helga trailed off. Hearing her friend sigh on the other end, she cleared her throat, "Some of us more than others. _But_ , he and I sort of began bonding over our stupid dating woes at Stinky's wedding and...it just kind of...slowly progressed from there." While that wasn't exactly a lie, it wasn't exactly being presented in an honest light either.

Whatever. Fake it to make it, right?

* * *

 **Saturday.**

Helga downed the last of her coffee, dressed in an old tee-shirt and a worn pair of nylon shorts as she expected to spend the day helping Brian pack up his condo to make the leap to her dwelling. She hadn't heard from him since Friday morning, at which the plan had been that she head over to his house mid-morning Saturday.

Right as she was putting her empty cup in the dishwasher, she heard the rumbling sound of a big truck engine roar up outside of her house and the slight squeak of brakes being put on. Curiosity thoroughly peeked, she walked to her front door and opened it, only to see Brian opening up the driver's door of a small rented moving truck.

"Surprise," Brian held his arms out wide towards the truck.

"I'll say."

"I got home early yesterday and just decided to pack everything up last night."

She walked out and down the steps, smirking, "Were you just going to let me show up to your empty condo then?"

Brian's face morphed into brief puzzlement, "I texted you."

"No you didn't," She laughed, shaking her head.

"I swear I did," He then began digging his phone from his pocket and scrolling to his text, "See, I'll show yo—nevermind I forgot to hit send."

Helga rolled her eyes, walking past him and up to the truck, "So...all your earthly possessions fit in this...relatively small moving truck, huh?" She teased, patting the side with her palm.

"Well, I left the furniture," He replied, shoving his phone back into his jeans, "Figured I'd just...include it with the condo when I sell. Since you obviously have your own and I doubted you'd be willing to part with _any_ of it."

"And you'd be right. I spent good money on that stuff." Helga crossed her arms, shifting her weight while cocking her head back at him, "Remind me again _why_ me moving my stuff was the better idea?"

"Well, technically, my lack of worldly possessions would have meant you would have had _plenty_ of room for _all_ of your stuff in my condo."

"Oh, shut up." With a chuckle, Brian walked to the back of the truck and threw open the lift gate, revealing...a half empty cargo bay. Helga's eyes widened, " _Wow..._ " He really did live more simply than she thought. Even for a dude.

"You'd be surprised at how little you actually have when most all of your furniture is taken out of the equation," He admitted as he climbed into the back, "As I found out." He grabbed the hand-truck, turning and looking back down at his new companion, "So, how about I just hand you boxes then?"

Brian had all of _three_ mid-sized cardboard boxes of clothes, a dresser, a desk, his turntables, a bunch of box shaped storage cubbies, a bookshelf and one box of random kick-knacks that sat on said bookshelf. The rest? Rubbermaid containers meticulously packed with his vast collection of rare vinyl albums. Albums more carefully packed than the box containing all of his sensitive information. Such as the social security card that fell out on the street and would have laid there for anybody and everybody to have had, had Helga not noticed it and retrieved it.

Honestly, who put that kind of stuff in an old cigar box?

 _Men._

"Brian, this is an identity theft starter kit," She scolded him as she stuffed his social security card back into the ancient flimsy lidded container.

"It's not like I transport my things often."

"Well, I would hope you use more care than this," She held the box up, giving it a thorough inspection to make sure nothing else important would tumble out of it, "This thing is ancient. Where did you even get it from?"

"My grandpa gave it to me when I was a child."

"Tell me, did he get it from his grandpa as well?" She rhetorically asked as she turned, placing it on the top of a Rubbermaid container before picking up the whole caboodle and carrying it into her house, leaving the container in her spare bedroom—his new hobby room—and _gently_ placing the cigar box onto her bed, fearing it could disintegrate if she were to toss it.

Before she could make it back out, she saw Brian hauling the rest of albums up the steps with the hand truck, leaving his dresser as the only remaining item on the sidewalk. She walked out and leaned against the piece of furniture and awaited on his return. Moments later, he came jogging down the steps with a big smile on his face, announcing, "The end is near!"

"... _Yay._ " Helga drawled with a sneer and a monotone voice. Each grabbed a corner of the dresser and hauled the piece inside, dropping it off in the master bedroom.

"Alright, well, I'm going to take the truck back and probably grab some lunch or something. Want to go?"

Helga looked around at the few things that needed to be put away before shrugging, "Yeah, why not."

* * *

 **That night.**

They had returned the truck, grabbed lunch, made a run to the grocery store, which Helga did every Saturday anyway—an activity she vowed never do again with _him_ in her presence. She'd never brought home so much junk food in her life! His eating habits were terrible. Absolutely terrible. Of course, if she remembered correctly, he was well aware of it, as her ability to feed herself meals that didn't require slitting plastic and sitting in a microwave was listed as a pro of this arrangement for him.

He'd have to wait to experience her culinary endeavors at a little later date though. It was a pizza kind of night, and that's what she was going to do. Order a pizza.

Which is where they were at that time. Eating pizza right out of the box, and drinking craft beer while they unpacked and placed his albums in those weird cubby shelves lining his new vinyl room.

"So is it true what they say?" Helga began as she pulled out the last record in the container they were currently excavating, seeing it to be a Miles Davis album, "Does everything _really_ sound better on vinyl?"

Brian gave her a side-glance, mouth pulling up into a smirk before he turned to her, "I think so."

" _Apparently,_ " Helga chuckled, waving her free hand at the remaining containers needing un-packing.

His smirk morphed into a full on smile, "Well, I think everything just sounds, more crisp and you can really hear all the instruments and everything."

Helga gave her head a quick sideways tilt, considering her explanation before deciding to play a little devils advocate with him, "Have you ever considered that maybe the music was just better back in the day?" She smartly theorized.

Which succeeded in making him laugh, but not at her. "Yeah, there's that too," He admitted, "But..." He tailed off, turning his attention back to his records, finger running along their edges, looking for one in particular. Helga silently watched him as he finally pulled one from the shelf, de-sleeving it while walking over to his player and carefully placing it. "This came out a few months ago," He looked back at her as he turned the player on.

They were quickly greeted to the up beat picking of a guitar, followed by the soulful voice of a woman. Brian started swaying to it, holding is arms up and snapping his fingers, "How good does this sound?" He rhetorically asked, "Can you hear that bass guitar?"

Helga chortled, crossing her arms as she smirked at his 'dancing', "It's pretty crisp sounding."

Brian smiled brightly before reaching out and taking hold of her arms, pulling them apart and moving them back and forth, 'forcing' her to 'dance' with him. She didn't particularly care to join him, and she wasn't much for embarrassing herself with movement to music, but she found herself making zero effort to recoil from him, "Come on, if you don't want to dance to this, I'm convinced you're dead inside," He goaded her teasingly.

"You're out of luck bud," She sneered back, "I've written the book on being dead inside."

"Oh?" His eyebrows raised, but he continued to force her to dance with him, "Is it available on the kindle, or do I have to get a hard-copy?"

"It's a pamphlet, actually."

"Ah, light reading then."

"Nihilism tends to cut to the chase."

At that, Brian laughed. "Come on," He then tried again, "Lighten up. It's not like anybody can see us."

Helga chuckled, finally withdrawing her hands from his grasp. "And thank God for that. You dance like a dad trying to embarrass his kids."

"And you dance like a judgemental nosy neighbor," He remarked, leaving Helga's mouth to fall agape at his savage clap back at her.

All in good fun, of course.

* * *

Aside from the micro-dance party that Brian had forced them into, to which Helga would never admit that she'd had even the modest amount of fun participating in, they had effectively sorted out his entire new hobby room.

They'd watched a movie, finished their beer and grabbed a pair of showers before winding down for the night. Brian had just stepped out of the shower, still drying off when he heard a knock on the door and a, "Are you done? I need to get into my closet." He had no idea whose bright idea it was to have to have a master closet that could only be accessed by going through the bathroom, but there it was.

Dumb. Dumb. _Dumb._

It was an old house though, so he blamed it on weird fifty-year old trends.

He finished drying off before walking over and retrieving his glasses from the vanity, "Yeah, give me just a second," He replied as he began slipping on his boxers and tee shirt. Once dressed he opened the door, seeing Helga standing there with his cigar box in hand.

"This stuff is going to be stored better," She informed him as she breezed past, through the bathroom and into the closet. Brian wandered in behind her, seeing her dump the entire contents of his box into a small lock box sitting on a shelf.

"Hold on here..." He crossed his arms and leaned against the door jam, smirk playing at his face. "You are giving my cigar box hell, but your solution for safer storage is _literally_ just a handheld metal box with a tiny lock?"

Helga rolled her eyes and turned back to him as she snapped the lid shut, "At least it wont fall apart."

"No, but if the house gets broken into, that thing screams 'take me!' and it even has a little handle for easy transporting."

"And they wouldn't take your box just as easily?" She argued back, "Granted, they would probably spend a lot of unnecessary time picking up everything falling out of it so..."

"Pshh...they wouldn't even check my box because it looks so decrepit."

Helga deadpanned him, "This is ridiculous," She stated before walking back around his person and to the vanity, grabbing her toothbrush and tooth paste. Brian strolled back over to the vanity himself, grabbing his own toothbrush from the holder and began prepping it.

They may not have moved all that much stuff, but she was actually pretty tired by that point. She blamed it on the jitters creeping up in her belly the closer it got to bedtime. _Everything_ that had transpired that day—and days before—had led up to where they currently were.

Getting ready to go to sleep.

In a bed.

A bed that finally sank in that they'd be sharing as they stood in front of said double vanity, brushing said teeth over their respective sinks in complete verbal silence. Each only briefly glancing at the other in the mirror while continuously in view of the newly problematic piece of furniture reflecting from the room behind them.

Sharing a bed. Like a couple. Granted they had other...marital milestones to eventually... _arrive_ at and... _cross_ but this was the big icebreaker for the time being.

Oh boy.

And enter, stage right, the first petty issue of the night. Brian was the first to finish, and as Helga walked out of the bathroom, she saw him trying to slide up in _her_ side of the bed. "Yeah, I don't think so."

"Huh?"

"That's my side of the bed."

Brian chuckled, "It's my side as well."

Helga crossed her arms, "It's my bed."

"Well, considering I had to move into your house, I'm keeping my side of the bed."

"That's not how this works, bucko."

"Okay," The young man chuckled and raised his hands, "Rock, paper, scissors it is then."

At that, Helga rolled her eyes, huffing but dropping her folded arms into the game ready position, figuring that, she'd beaten him earlier, maybe the odds would be ever in her favor again.

"Rock, paper, scissors!" He picked rock, she picked scissor, effectively losing the first round. To Brian's triumphant smile. "Rock, paper, scissors!" He picked scissor and she picked paper.

"Dammit!" She cursed.

"All is fair," Brian offered to the unhappy eye roll of Helga, who proceeded to corral her crap from the bedside and dejectedly crawl into the foreign half of the bed, putting all the stuff on that table.

Brian slithered underneath the covers, resting on his back before taking a big breath and turning to her, "So...how do you normally wind down?"

"Usually just read," She replied, mid-reach for the novel she was about half-way done with. "You?" She asked, settling into the covers.

"Surf the web on my phone. Most nights," He said, reaching over and grabbing his cell, "What are you reading?"

"The Sun Also Rises," She held the paperback cover so he could see, "I'm thinking about adding it to one of my courses next semester," She then explained. Not that it was a bad read or anything, but definitely purely work related at that point. Of course she didn't know why she felt the need to tell him all that. Other than she figured he'd probably ask what it was about and why she was reading it anyway.

"Does it ever get boring teaching essentially the same stuff over and over every four months?"

Helga's brow perked as she very casually shrugged, "A little. Hence, me exploring new material," She held the book up once more. "Do you ever get bored sitting in a cockpit?"

Brian smirked, "Actually, never," The blonde woman beside him tossed her eyes and he laughed, "Being twenty-ish thousand feet in the air never gets old. Mostly because it could mean certain death," He trailed off watching her returning her attention to her book, "You should let me take you up sometime."

Helga chortled, side-eying him with her blue pools, "You should really work on your sales pitch."

"Yeah, that wasn't the best segue was it?" He admitted, "It's really not scary at all. I promise."

"Sure."

"Don't tell me you hate flying."

"Not at all," She assured, "Just...maybe flying with you."

"I have you know, I've only killed three people..." He began broadly grinning as soon as he'd completely captured her unamused attention.

Helga finally cast him a soft smirk, "Three is the charm right?"

That back and fourth banter continued for at least an hour, Helga getting very little reading done, even stopping completely while they both laughed hysterically at a news article Brian read aloud about a man in Florida throwing an alligator through a drive-thru window.

While she thoroughly enjoyed the quiet before bedtime, she'd never admit that having someone to lay in bed and chat with, really wasn't _all_ that bad. Even if it _was_ with Brian. Something she never really did with all her past boyfriends, being 'emotionally unavailable' or whatever.

Minus Arnold that was.

It would have been better had they both come to their readiness for sleep at different intervals, but as it happened, both decided that they were tired of reading, and web surfing at the exact same time and thus, had to really tuck in simultaneously.

Enter stage left, the second problem of the night. Helga always preferred falling asleep on her left side, however now that she had been displaced to the right side of her _own_ bed—Yes, she was bitter about it, even if he won fair and square—that would put her drifting off into dreamland facing his body.

To her, that was highly awkward. So she just laid there on her back, staring at the ceiling fan twirl silently in the dark.

And so did he. All the while she wondered if that's how he normally fell asleep, or if he had the same internal struggle too.

* * *

 **Early Sunday Morning.**

When Brian pried his eyes open many hours later, he did so in full view of the top of the bedside table. Blinking quite a few times, he realized that his head was almost laying on it, and that was because his entire body was precariously positioned on about an inch of mattress. He inhaled deeply, while craning his head back to see why exactly he was teetering on the edge.

Helga.

Helga was the reason why.

Stretched out all diagonally in the bed, finding a way to take up an _entire_ queen sized to herself. An impressive feat considering her size. Out like a light too. Halfway on her side, halfway on her back. One arm stretched above her head. As aggravated as he was, he found it to be a rather adorable sight.

Of course he had always thought that most girls slept adorably.

But as adorable as it was, he wasn't ready to get up and she had to move over. As gently as he could, he pushed her more towards her half of the mattress, leaving him with enough real estate to get comfy again.

* * *

Brian re-woke sometime later, finding Helga gone, but hearing a rustle elsewhere in the house and a delightful cinnamon smell wafting through the air. This pretty quickly lured him out of bed, like an old Disney cartoon character following the weirdly sentient beckoning of a pie's aroma sitting in an open window seal. Making a quick stop by the bathroom for his contacts and a teeth brushing.

In the kitchen, Helga was pulling something from the oven. Maybe it was a pie, he didn't know. It smelt good, whatever it was. "What's that?" He asked as he walked to her cabinet to retrieve a coffee cup. He'd been there enough times to know where she kept things as well.

"Apple cinnamon baked oatmeal," Helga replied as she removed the oven mitts from her hands and retrieved her cup of coffee, "I had some apples that needed to be used so..."

"Probably tastes better than the McGriddles I get every weekend," Brian finished pouring his coffee before turning and leaning back against the counter, "I hope they don't call the police to do a well check on me since I didn't show up this morning." When Helga chortled he smirked, "They know me by name up there."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised. Grab a couple bowls," She pointed to the cabinet behind his head. He turned and retrieved the requested dishes for her, handing them off to each receive a decent portion.

From there, the two sat at her bar, and began chowing down, "This is _really_ good," He praised after scarfing down a few mouthfuls, wondering if she made breakfasts like that every day. Jackpot if she did, "Where did you learn to cook so well?"

"Uh...my parents were extremely neglectful, so I had to learn to feed myself."

He snorted, not entirely sure if she was joking or being serious. He assumed the former. "So...what you're saying is you're the real life Matilda movie?"

"Yep," Helga slightly smirked at him, "The parallels are uncanny, now that I think about it."

* * *

 ** **Monday Morning.****

Brian woke up early _again,_ balancing on an inch of bed. _Again,_ having to push her back towards _her_ side before settling back in to catch a few more Z's. He'd barely nodded back off before what sounded like thirty alarms going off, erupted through the room.

It wasn't quite thirty, but that was how he learned that Helga Pataki, was _not_ a natural early riser. He looked around, seeing her drag herself out of the bed, turning off one alarm on her phone, before heading to the bathroom to turn off another. Brian reached over and grabbed his phone, seeing it to only be 6:30am.

She could have fun with that. He was going back to sleep.

* * *

By the time he got up, and got dressed for his day, she was long gone. He walked into the kitchen, seeing that the coffee had been set to brew at that time **.** Brian grinned, realizing how thoughtful that was of her. That was when he noticed a note taped to the coffee cup cabinet. He pulled it off, reading:

 _Time to sell your stock in Micky-D's. There's a couple of bacon, egg, and cheese burritos for you in the fridge. A minute 30 seconds in the microwave. Flip them halfway through. Enjoy._

Brian opened up the fridge and indeed saw his breakfast waiting, neatly wrapped on a dinner plate, causing him to smile.

* * *

 **Tuesday Afternoon.**

Helga came walking into her house, attention fully engrossed in her phone as she was busy reading an email from a fellow literature colleague whom she had sent off the newest chapter of her book to be critiqued and proofed. While she was used to getting home earlier than most, she'd learned that Brian's schedule varied. But he usually wasn't home until after 5:00.

She'd been so caught up in her reading that she had failed to see his truck on the street, which lead to the most horrifically awkward situation ever. On autopilot, she wandered into the bedroom, making her way to the bathroom, looking up to see...

Him sitting on the toilet, browsing his phone. "Jesus Christ!" She shouted, ducking back out of the bathroom as quickly as possible. "Ever thought of closing a door?!"

"I didn't think you'd be home this early!" He hollered back.

"This is my normal time!"

"You didn't see my truck?!"

"I was reading an email!"

"That's not my fault!"

"I _swear_ Brian, if you destroy that toilet, you're paying for it!"

" _We're_ paying for it," He smartly corrected, " _Dear._ "

Helga huffed and stomped off, completely disgusted by the entire ordeal.

* * *

 **Wednesday Afternoon.**

Helga had been dreading this day, and the next. She and Phoebe had a pedicure appointment together and she was _sure_ her friend was going to come loaded with new questions. Especially since she hadn't heard from her since the night of their announcement. She felt so bad about hiding the big secret from her best friend in the whole wide world. It wasn't a very _best friend_ thing to do. And Helga felt even worse when Phoebe hadn't come with a million new questions. She was quiet and distant instead. Helga tried to convince herself that her friend was simply exhausted from work and motherhood, but that wasn't Phoebe's style.

She was a trooper.

No, she was obviously still hurt about being left out.

And Helga finally just broke from guilt and...silent treatment, "I have a confession to make."

Phoebe, who was sitting in the massage chair beside her, a cucumber on each eye, began letting out a long breath of air, "I'm afraid to know at this point." She sighed.

"Brian and I got married because we were tired of dating and wanted the tax perks." There! She revealed her secret and began intently watching her best friend's reaction.

The cucumbers instantly tumbled down Phoebe's face, her brown eyes already on Helga as she sat up, "Run that by me again?"

"Uhh..." Helga gulped, "The marriage is on false pretenses? We haven't been seeing each other secretly it was...sort of just a pact really so—"

"—A pact?"

"You know, no need to be bent out of shape anymore about me hiding something from you, which clearly you _are_ judging by all the quietness today."

Phoebe blinked, "I'm actually just tired. The twins have been going through sleep regression," She explained, sounded a little offended.

"...oh."

"Yeah."

"Well that was an epic misread," Helga grumbled before sighing, "So, this is going to sound ridiculous, and trust me, it kind of is, but, after Stinky's wedding, Brian and I got reasonably drunk—"

"—Oh lord..."

"Not _that_ drunk! Jeez!" Helga scolded, "Anyway and, I told him about a story I read about these two friends that agreed that if they were still single by the time they turned thirty, that they'd just marry each other."

"...Oh lord in heaven."

Helga sighed in heavy agitation because she couldn't just finish her dang story without quips from the peanut gallery, "So...we kind of just made the same pact, which to be fair, I thought we were purely joking but...he showed up at my house the day after his birthday party asking if we were serious and we made a list and...I don't know...cats."

At that, Phoebe just tilted her head at her, _extremely_ confused by that point, "Cats?"

The blonde woman shrugged, "Yeah, you know. I had thought about getting a cat and, well, I figured it was either let it snow ball into professor cat lady or get married."

"I honestly don't even know what to say at this point."

"Well, I'll tell you what you're _not_ going to say, is a word about this to any of the gang. _Especially_ your husband." She wasn't even going to tell Brian that she'd spilled the beans to Phoebe. It would just create a domino effect and...show weakness on her part. No thanks.

"He's my _husband._ "

"He's also Paul Revere when it comes to keeping secrets!"

Phoebe popped her brow and gave her head a quick sideways tilt, wordlessly agreeing with what Helga was saying. Gerald wasn't the best at secret keeping. "So, I guess you guys are officially a couple and all now though."

"Eh...not _exactly._ "

Her friend's brown eyes slowly, and tiredly shifted back over, "What does that mean?"

"Well, it's kind of...just a marriage on paper and a..." She began gesturing her hands in a rotating circle, as if she were weighing her options, "Roommates that share a bed situation at this point."

"Hm."

Helga's eyes narrowed suspiciously at her, "What do you mean 'hm'?"

"Nothing," Phoebe shook her head, "Just hm," She replied before proceeding to ask the obvious, "Are you planning in the future to—"

"—Yes, but I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Hm."

* * *

 **Saturday Morning.**

Brian awoke, for the nth time since moving in, in danger of falling off the edge of the bed because of the blonde headed bed hog behind him. And he'd already scooted her over _twice_ that morning. "That's it!" He exclaimed while hurriedly ripping the blankets from himself and jumping out of the bed. He then turned and yanked the covers off of Helga. "Up, up, up!"

"Crimeny! What gives?" Helga groaned through newly squinted eyes. She did, however slowly sit up, running a hand sleepily through her hair while becoming rapidly more peeved at his morning burst of energy.

"We're going mattress shopping this morning," He announced as he walked into the bathroom, presumably to the closet.

" _What?_ " She replied in confusion. Had he gone mad? There was absolutely nothing wrong with her bed. "There's nothing wrong with my bed! I just bought this thing a few years ago!" She shouted.

Brian returned to the door of the bathroom, wearing a different shirt and buttoning up a pair of jeans, "The bed is perfectly fine, I however, am tired of sleeping on this much mattress," He held his hand up, showing her the exaggerated amount of space he had with his index and thumb, "Because you are the world's biggest bed hog. So, we're getting something bigger."

The accusation caught Helga off guard, but she found herself looking down and noticing that she was diagonal in the middle of the bed. Okay, so maybe she was very much still used to sleeping by herself, but what he was suggesting was rash action at this point. "You could just, move me over."

"I have. Every. Single. Morning. And this morning, _twice._ "

"Oh," Helga looked away, crossing her arms, "Well, you steal covers..."

"Get dressed."

* * *

About an hour later, the pair walked into the local mattress outlet and were immediately swooped in on by the stereotypical salesman in a white shirt and tie. "Hey there folks. How can I help you?"

"We need a bigger mattress. Biggest you have. And I want it delivered today if possible." Brian replied, just cutting to the chase and to the great embarrassment of Helga, who subtly rolled her eyes at him.

The sales guy blinked, seeming as if he were a little caught of guard before cautiously smiling, "Okay then."

Brian then motioned towards Helga, "We currently have a queen sized. She's a bed hog. _I_ need more mattress."

The sales guy begin nodding, seemingly very understanding, "Yeah, I understand completely sir. I've got one of those at home myself. She's tiny but damn she was like the entire size of the bed at night."

"Oh my God..." Helga muttered, running her hand over her face.

"Getting a king sized was the best thing we ever did for our marriage," He continued as he began motioning them to another area of the store.

"Yeah we need all the help we can get," She muttered once more but through a big fake smile as she looked up at Brian.

* * *

 **That Night.**

"See, this is going to be great!" Brian collapsed, spread eagle on their newly delivered California king mattress, "So much space." He turned his head to see Helga sitting on the edge, giving him a subtle smirk as she tried to appear indifferent to his joy.

"I'm glad you're happy."

"Oh, don't act like you wont enjoy this," He sat up, grinning from ear to ear.

"And I remained convinced that if you'd let me adjust, I would have migrated to my side naturally."

Brian rolled his eyes, playful smile still ever present, "Well, you don't have to worry about that now." And before she had barely finished her sentence, he lurched across the bed and grabbed hold of her waist, dragging her onto the center.

"Hey!"

"See," He hovered over her, sitting on his knees, "You can be diagonal all you want, girl, and you're never going to bother me."

Helga snorted and pushed him away, sitting up and sliding towards the edge again, "Now, if we can do something about your sheet thievery, we'll have a marriage made in heaven," She chuckled at her own sarcasm, "I'm grabbing a shower before bed."

"Save me some hot water."

"You know I wont," She called back in a sweet, sing-songy voice.

"I'll come in there."

The flimsy threat cracked her up, "No you wont."

* * *

Helga had been kind and left him plenty of hot water. Not that he took long showers that required much, but there had been a few days where she'd completely forgotten she didn't live alone anymore.

Oops.

When he emerged from his short bath, he saw her sitting criss-cross on her half of the bed with a bunch of paper around her and a pen twirling in hand, as she read. He didn't even have to ask to know that she was grading papers. He smirked, never missing an opportunity to mess with her, "You know the term is 'working _it_ ' in bed, not working in bed."

" _So_ hilarious," She peered up her lashes at him, "Where can I purchase tickets to your stand-up?"

Brian continued smiling, but said nothing as he slid into his spacious new side. Once comfy, he reached over and grabbed a couple of her papers and began reading her comments. "Yikes..." He said after a moment, "You are _relentless._ They must hate you."

At that, Helga scoffed, finding his accusation absolutely preposterous, "I am not. Have you read some of these? It's like bare minimum effort."

"It's English 102."

"So?"

"Look I know that you have you fun high level classes that the students take out of free will, but everybody is taking this because they have to."

The blonde tossed her blue eyes at him, "And I realize that but look at me," She motioned to herself, "I'm not that much older than some of these kids and at the very least...I don't _look_ that much older than them. Young professors have to establish dominance early on or else they'll try to run right over you."

Brian chuckled and put the papers back down, "You know you can still be a cool professor and lay down the law right?" He informed before reaching over and grabbing another essay from her graded pile, "I'm going to re-grade this one," He announced, plucking the pen from her hand.

"Are you now?" She curiously watched him, faint smirk playing across her face as he began reading. They were shorter essays, a mere four pages, minimum, which was all she could expect from her 102 classes, so it didn't take him long. He made his notes and gave it back to her. "A 'B' huh?" He had upped it by a whole letter grade.

God, he'd never make it in academia.

"Uh huh," He grinned broadly, clearly pleased with himself.

"Why, pray tell, do you think it needs a 'B' versus my 'C'?"

"Because he obviously tried."

Helga snorted and shook her head, "He clearly skimmed some cliff notes. Probably the night before this was due."

"See, he tried." This caused Helga to laugh again, "How about a 'B-' then? Let's compromise and get you on the path to being the cool professor." Brian said as he rolled back over and grabbed his phone to do his nightly web surfing.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Oh by the way, I have a surprise for you tomorrow."

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, they are settling in. Guess we'll see how it goes huh? Thanks for all that are following and commenting! It means a lot!


	4. His Sunglasses, Pheebs

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

 **A/N:** Okay, I know some of you guys thought Helga wasn't trying at all last chapter. But I just found it completely unrealistic that she would just dive headfirst into anything beyond what she had agreed to. She's stubborn, and she hates to be sold things. She likes to think it's her idea first, and I Brian kind of realizes that.

Anyway, onward! Lots of goodies in this chapter.

* * *

 **His Sunglasses, Pheebs.**

Helga stared out the window of the moving vehicle trying to figure out where the heck they were going. Brian had been traveling for a few minutes in a direction of which she couldn't think of a single place that would qualify a _surprise_. One he'd felt the need to tell her about before bed the prior night. To which she had laid awake thinking about for half the night, both terrified of what it could be and... _slightly_ excited. She wasn't much of a surprise person per say. She was a busy woman and she didn't have time to play games. Okay, she technically wasn't _that_ busy, but still, even if she _were_ into the whole guessing and anticipation nonsense, she wasn't _exactly_ sure what to think of the idea that he'd gotten her a surprise something or other. Was it...a friend surprise? Or a couples surprise? Or a...married surprise?

Hopefully married surprises weren't anything like dating surprises. Looking at you Todd Schwartz. But that was another tale, for another time, and as aforementioned, she was a very busy woman who had little time for stories about a ex-boyfriend who's roommate was his ex-wife.

Needless to say, she was hoping for a friend surprise...a friend-prise. Fries. Yes. _Fries._ That was good, she'd have to remember to write that one down. Never the less, her witty melding of words wasn't getting her anywhere fast. But Brian's truck was.

Finally, she took a sip of her Micky-Ds coffee before turning away from her window of thoughts to offer up her husband a heaping spoonful of Helga stare. Uh, fun fact, they really did know Brian by name at the McDonald's and were elated to see him again, after assuming that he had died. "So where is it you're taking me, Sir secretive?"

Brian grinned, "I'm a Sir now?"

"For the purpose of this conversation."

"You'll find out soon." He cryptically replied while going grab for his coffee.

Helga slightly tossed her eyes, not at all... _surprised_ at his aloofness she supposed. Yet she couldn't help but jabber back at him. They at least had the old married couple shtick down pat. They could playfully bicker for days without trying, "I feel that you should know, obviously for the health of our marriage and what not, that I'm not the biggest fan of surprises."

Of course all that warning did was nearly make him spurt coffee as he chortled, "I can't really say I'm _surprised_ by that. I mean, considering your history with men and all," He recalled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

His wife's mouth dropped open as she slowly rotated her head back in his direction. He truly was growing more audacious by the day. "Oh...my...God..."

"I'm kidding! It's true...but I'm kidding."

Helga's eyes narrowed into two pairs of blue slits, amplifying her complete unamusment at Brian's giggling over her, admittedly, terrible record with men, "What if I just...opened up the car door and..fell out right now? Hmm?"

"Umm..." Brian trailed off, running his tongue over the bottoms of his gums as he pretended to think about the questions, "I guess I'd probably be surprised. But we're about to stop so," He abruptly announced as he pulled into the small private airport that he worked out, "Fling yourself out in the parking lot I guess."

"The airport?" He looked back out the window flatly, "Is it bring your wife to work day or something?" She then looked back over her shoulder at him with a smart-ass smirk comfortably in place on her face.

"You little comedian," He cooed while reaching out and gently tapping her on the nose with his index. Helga's face deadpanned. "I have to pick something up before we continue on our grand adventure."

"Fun. Well, might as well give me a tour," Helga went to open the door before pausing and glancing back at him, "Or is that not allowed?"

Brian was full on grinning by that point, and suspiciously at that but she was willing to put that aside for the time being, assuming he was just thrilled that she seemed to have some semblance of interest in what he did for a living. Semblance she did have, if only a little. "I can show you around."

"Lead the way, _Sir._ "

They both hopped out of his truck and she followed him across the small parking lot and into the side door of a large windowless hanger building made of aluminum and with a rounded over top. Once inside, Helga discovered that it had several large garage like doors on the backside that opened up to the runway. In the hanger, a few nicer looking planes were parked and she could see several different rooms lining on end of hanger. Offices she assumed. "Well, here's where I hang out all day."

"Nice," Helga responded, still looking around and not sure what else to say about it. Before she could come up with anything else to comment about, he began walking down towards the offices. She skipped along behind him, finally thinking of something to ask, "Whose planes are these?"

"Most of them are client's personal aircraft. The few outside are Sergio's, my boss, and the guy who owns this place."

"Oh, that's cool."

Brian opened up one of the doors to the rooms and stepped in, gesturing his arm out after he turned on the lights, "And this is my office." It was pretty plain looking, in her opinion, and she guessed that he spent very little time in it. Which made sense, he was employed to fly planes, not...sit at a desk.

"It's very...minimalist," She remarked with a chuckle, "You should see my office." However, her eye caught sight of something that absolutely didn't belong in an office...in an airport. Or any office really.

"If it's anything like the way our bed looked last night, I think I can guess."

"So uhh..." She cocked her head and glanced back at him, nonchalantly pointing to opposite side of the room, "Is that a mattress?" Indeed there was a well made little full size mattress laying on the floor.

A slightly bashful looking smile seeped across Brian's face as he chortled. He knew what she was thinking, but, "Yeah." Was all he said while walking behind the desk and opening a locked drawer to retrieve something. She guessed whatever the mysterious thing he had to stop and get was. It sounded like keys.

"What have you been using _that_ for?" She slowly smirked at his subtle embarrassment over the misplaced piece of furniture.

"Sleeping. What else?"

" _Sure._ " When he rolled his eyes her smirk grew, slightly enjoying giving him a hard time, even if she would never admit it, "What? You mean to tell me you've _never_ used the whole 'I'm a pilot' thing as a pickup line?" She teased him.

At that, he crossed his arms, suddenly appearing a little more smug as he walked back around his desk and leaned back against it, "Of course I have. Now..." He gestured off to his floor bed, "About that surprise..." He wagged his eyebrows.

Helga's eyes instantly widened as her mouth fell wide open for the second time that morning. Her brain wasn't even sure how to respond to that, but her mouth felt the need to utter something, and what came out was a slightly stammering, "Wha— _whoa_. Hold on a mi—"

"—I'm kidding," Brian laughed, getting a real kick out of how flustered his suggestion had made her. "Jeez, you can be so easy to fluster sometimes."

His wife inhaled while beginning to stare him down, "We're in a marriage of convenience that at some point we'll have to make official. Can you blame me?"

"And you think I'd pick right now, in my office, to attempt to get that show on the road?"

"I mean, I have no idea what we're doing anymore."

"Fair enough. But since I feel compelled to redeem myself here, I have that because I actually do a good bit of overnight flying. Sometimes I get in at 2:00am and don't feel like driving home. Sometimes I may not be flying out until 3:00am. Also I like naps during the day," He finished with a smirk.

"So you just... _sleep_ here huh?" She repeated. Oddly enough, if any other guy had tried to pass that claim off on her, she would have promptly called bullshit and left. Amazingly, she actually believed him. After all, they were in the situation they were in because neither had any sort of game.

"Yep. I'm lazy," Brian then clapped his hands together and pushed off his desk, "Now, how about the rest of the tour?"

"Sure," Helga nodded, downing the rest of her coffee and discarding the cup in his small trash basket. She followed him out of the office and across the building, heading in the direction of the open back bays, heading towards the tarmac. "Who uses this airport?" She asked, "I mean, why wouldn't they just go to a big airport? No offense."

"Great question, and none taken," He smirked down at her as they continued walking, "Wealthier people, obviously. Those who want to fly rather than drive distances under a thousand miles. People seeking scenic tours. I do a lot of flight lessons."

"Oh...interesting," Helga noted, having not really ever thought to hard about what he did really, other than just generically knowing that he flew planes. "So what makes you prefer this over flying planes in a regular airport."

Brian side eyed her, still smirking, "You going to write a paper about me later?"

"I don't know, maybe," She copped him a side-smile in return, "It's what I do best."

"So I hear," He then shrugged, "I like the variety here. I get to actually meet people and get to know them. I have a lot of freedom. I _could_ make more flying commercial liners but, I'd be gone all the time, and I actually enjoy this."

Helga nodded, "I hear you."

"So this is our fleet," He waved his arm out to include the small collection of planes sitting on the side of the landing strip, "These are what I fly if I'm not chartering somebody's personal plane for them." He then walked up to one of the smaller units on the strip, she trotting up behind him as he pulled the release on the side door and guided it down. "Well, surprise! Get in." He thumbed at the aircraft.

"What? No. I can't get in that!"

"Why?"

"Because it's...small and...rickety looking and, you did not sell yourself very well last night!"

"Rickety?!" Brian scowled.

"Okay, it's not rickety..."

At that point, he crossed his arms and began peering at her a little more knowing, thinking he had her figured out by that point, "You're scared of flying aren't you?"

"I told you last night that I wasn't."

"I think you are."

"Please..." Helga crossed her own arms while casting him a put on look of absurdity, "I fly...when I _have_ to...in the very middle aisle, and after taking a Xanax."

"You're afraid of flying, just admit it."

"Look, all I'm saying is, if your car breaks down, you don't plummet out of the sky."

Brian sighed, having heard that line a million times, "Fine. If you don't want to go, I get it," He told her as he looked back at the plane, sounding completely let down by her resistance to air travel in general. It made her feel badly though, to see him so deflated. He appeared genuinely excited about giving her this surprise, and she wouldn't say she was _terrified_ of flying, she just preferred it only when absolutely necessary.

Oh who was she kidding? She was being a giant buzz kill about it. And not wanting to develop that reputation with a man she had not so long ago agreed to spend forever with, she sighed quietly before dropping her arms to her side, "I'll go..." She watched as his face lit up with a wide smile, "But no crazy...plane flips or anything."

"I'm not a stunt pilot..."

"I don't know. You just rattled off three different things you do here, how am I suppose to know."

"Yeah, yeah," Brian teasingly rolled his eyes, "Now get in, we're losing daylight here."

"It's 9:45 in the morning," She countered with her own eye roll before following him up the steps and into the very tiny plane and even tinier co-pilots chair. "They just let you fly these things whenever you want?" She asked as he sat down beside her after closing the door.

"Yeah. I just pay for the gas I use," He explained as he handed her a headset before snapping his pair over his ears. Helga watching curiously as he put a key in an ignition and began flipping what seemed like a dozen different switches. Before she'd even secured herself into the seat harness—which to be honest, she found _completely_ pointless in an airplane—he'd fired up the engine. She slid her headset on and heard him say...

"Can you hear me?" She nodded yes and he gave her a thumbs up before, to her great chagrin, they began moving, taxing down the runway until—oh dear lord— _lift off._ Closing her eyes, she let her head rest back against the seat, waiting for them to be the the air already. A few moments went by before she felt his hand wrap around one of hers in her lap, leading her eyes to snap open, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

He smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze before withdrawing it from her person, messing with a few more gauges. Helga felt that they were barely in the air anytime at all before they were suddenly over the mountains in Washington. Something that would have been a solid forty-five minute drive. Next thing she knew, they were flying over a ridge, in which she saw one of the most gorgeous views of the valleys that she'd ever seen. She wouldn't consider herself a nature buff, but she appreciated the beauty of the local landscape. And this view? Holy _crap._ It was a sight to see.

"The tree's are starting to turn," Brian commented, noticing her enamored staring out of the window.

Helga breathlessly replied, "It's beautiful."

"I figured you might appreciate this."

His wife turned back to face him with a giddy little smile, "I love it."

* * *

 **Wednesday Night.**

Helga had left the weekend feeling very much like a slight jerk over her overtly resistant behavior towards Brian the previous week. It wasn't that she _wasn't_ trying, it was just that...well, she was still having a hard time adjusting. She wouldn't have agreed to such an outrageous life decision if she _wasn't_ serious about it. She was more of less just caught off guard by how quickly he had just _included_ her into _everything_ in his life. He took her on a scenic flight for crying out loud! They'd been friends for years— _years_ —and he'd never once asked, or volunteered such and adventure. To her or anything of their other friends. He'd moved into her house without anything more than a grumble and a shrug and promptly put his condo on the market. Hopefully that sold quickly.

To be fair, he was a lot more easy going than her. She was well aware that she could be a little tightly wound at times and it could make her unintentionally resistant to even the slightest change. And if she were being honest, she needed get herself in the mindset of being more proactive, and less reactive to everything involving him. But hey, at least she was well aware of her character flaws and was attempting to make changes. Hence dating and then marrying...somebody who wasn't Arnold. But still, she wasn't dense. As easy going about everything as he had been, she could tell that a part of Brian _was_ stressing over giving up so much of his life for this.

It was while she had been sitting in her last class of the day, reading a book as her student's took a test that she finally thought of something that she could do that would be a good-will gesture to him. And she realized how excited she was to show him it when she heard the front door open that night.

Brian popped into the kitchen moments later, catching sight of her leaning against the cabinets while, what appeared to be two steaks sizzled in a pan atop the stove. "Nice," He remarked with a smile, his eyes sparkling a touch as he strolled up, giving the two cuts of beef a look, "I haven't had skillet steaks since I lived at home. My mom's a really good cook too. You'll find out at Thanksgiving this year."

"I can't wait," Helga chuckled, being ever reminded about how she would eventually have to let him meet her...two people legally deemed to be her parents. Probably thanksgiving seeing as that would be the only time she'd see them. She already had a headache thinking about it, "Where are your parent's anyway?" She then asked, suddenly thinking about how he'd told her last year that they had bought an RV as their retirement gift and were traveling the country, living their best life.

"Indiana last time I talked to them."

"What a life," Helga remarked with a smirk, "So hey...I did a thing today."

"Aww, look at you," He turned to her, grinning as he came closer, "Doing things and all."

Helga rolled her eyes, although not really sure why she even bothered at that point. For the sport she supposed, "Yep. Doing _all_ those things like a strong, independent woman." She should have been used to his subtle ability to be a smart-ass by that point. Having only known him her whole life and what have you.

"Alright, Destiny's Child," He copped back, staring down at her with a snarky little grin in place, crossing his arms as he came to stand in front of her, "Tell me about your thing, Mrs. Thang."

"Great, now we're the Thangs."

"Mr. and Mrs. Thang. I like it."

"You would," She teased before reaching for a folder that she'd had sitting beside her on the counter and pushing it into his chest with her finger tips. Brian uncrossed his arms hurriedly to receive her suspicious package, giving her one more look before thumbing open it's mysterious contents.

She watched as eyes danced around the paper and then the corner of his mouth pulled upward, "You added me to your bank accounts huh?" He new he sounded too playful about it. He was well aware of how she was—loving absolute control of everything in her life—and he knew that her doing something like this was a _huge_ deal for her.

"I just...I know it was hard for you to give up your home, even though you acted like it wasn't a big deal. And well, this is the biggest personal thing in my life that I could give you access to right now. And trust me, it's killing me," She shifted her weight to one foot while running a hand through her hair, trying to appear more nonchalant about it, "So, if you want to clean me out and fly off into the sunset I guess you could. Of course, be aware that I _am_ a professor at a public college so, there isn't a ton to run off with."

Brian chuckled, "Thank you," He said, which effectively ceased her comically rambling and drew her blue eyes back up to his, "And I know this is a big thing for you. It means a lot to me."

At that, Helga's lips perked and spread into a small but genuine smile.

* * *

 **Thursday Afternoon.**

Helga had just sat down for lunch on campus when she heard the new email chirp from her phone chime from her dress pocket. She sat her sandwich down and pulled it out, seeing that it was from her bank in the form of a 'large deposit' alert. This made little sense to her, because it wasn't a pay week, and not even a Friday to boot. Figuring that it had to be some sort of alert glitch, she almost didn't bother to investigate, but when it came to matters of her finances, better safe than sorry.

And...as she soon laid eyes on, 'large deposit' was correct. Two in fact. One into her checking and one into her savings. And before she could go any further into that, a text from Brian popped up that said, ' _I did a thing just now.'_

Helga lightly chuckled, leaning back in her chair. She had a hunch that she knew what at that point. Unless she was being reversed Nigerian prince'd, _'I think I might know what.'_

 _'Of course you do. I bet you get alerts over $15 increments. lol.'_

 _'Hey!...$25. But I've had my debit card number stolen so, I'm paranoid.'_

 _'Oh. That sucks. When did that happen?'_

 _'Last year. They spent $300 at a liquor store, and another $600 at a mattress store in Florida.'_

 _'LOL. That just sounds like a romantic night.'_

 _'Oh my God...It really was not funny at the time.'_

 _'I'm sure. Anyway, I closed my bank account...'_

Helga smirked, unable to resist the chance to tease him, ' _Wow, you had a bank?'_

 _'...um...yeah. What? Did you think I kept my money in a cigar box?'_

 _'I just assumed that you had your paycheck deposited directly into the McDonalds.'_ She quickly typed, _'But the cigar box wouldn't have surprised me either.'_

 _'You know what? I'm going to use all the hot water tonight when we get home.'_

 _'I'll kill you.'_

 _'You have all my money now, so it would be very suspicious.'_

 _'On a serious note...you really closed your bank accounts?'_

 _'Sure did.'_

 _'You didn't have to do that.'_

 _'I wanted to. :)'_

* * *

 **Saturday Night.**

The rain had been coming down for about twenty minutes by the time Helga emerged from her writing room, carrying her empty wine glass. Brian, who had been immersed in his laptop, sitting on the couch, had even made his way over to the back window to stare out at the downpour. "It's really coming down out there." He noted, both hands perched on his hips, really peering out that window.

It was literally one of the most dad sayings she'd ever heard. Having just walked by him, she halted, and spun back around on her heel, "I know. It's great! I'm going to go sit on the patio, want to come?"

The dirty blonde headed guy turned back to her, smirk growing, "You puddle jump?"

His wife rolled her eyes, before giving him a deadpanned expression, "No I'm going to go sit and enjoy the rain."

This illicted an eyebrow higher on his newly interested face, "Oh, you enjoy rain?"

"Um, yeah," Helga shifted her weight, propping her hand on her hip, "I find it soothing to listen to. So do you want to come or not?"

"Sure," He shrugged, turning around completely, "I'm not doing anything else." Helga had turned and was already continuing her trek to the kitchen for a top off. Brian fetched himself a glass and had her pour him one too before the pair headed out the back of the house to sit on the covered patio.

If it was any heavier of a rain, he thought that the sound of it on the roof over the patio would become maddening, but as it was, it wasn't _that_ bad. He could see the appeal. So he just sat back, drank his wine and listened to it rain. "This is nice." He finally broke the...uh...silence?

Helga turned her head to him, slightly smirking, "If you don't like it, you can tell me."

Brian was sort of offended that she thought he would lie to her, even just to be nice. He smiled though, twirling his eyes once before taking a sip of wine, "I'd go back inside if I wasn't enjoying being out here. I have plenty of mindless things to google the web about, rest assured."

"Plenty, huh?"

"The level of curiosity I have about random pointless crap would astound you," He then leaned more towards her on his elbow, "So, are you only happy when it rains?"

It was Helga's turn to roll her eyes at him before reaching out and shoving his shoulder with her palm, "Yes, I'm a walking Garbage song."

"I'm kidding," Brian chuckled, letting it settle at that for awhile by choosing to say nothing more. They sat in a rain filled silence for who knows how long after that. Long enough for him to recall some fond memories of splashing around in puddles with his parents when he was very young. He also remembered the small bonfires his dad would build in the backyard in the autumn that they would roast marshmallows around. Which made him think that a fire-pit could be fun. Her— _their_ —backyard was flat enough. Tiny but almost perfectly level.

"Want another?" Helga pointed to his empty glass. When he nodded, she took it from him and skipped back inside for refills. While she was gone—and far longer than it should have to top off two glasses. Obviously there had been a bathroom trip in there somewhere—Brian stood up and made his way to the edge of the patio roof and leaned against one of the wooden support beams, staring out into the yard, thinking about random rain things. He heard the back door open and close and then her walk up beside him.

"Drinks on the table."

"What is it about rain that is so romantic?" He found himself wondering aloud, paying little attention to what she'd just told him.

"What?" Helga asked, pulling her own glass away from her face. That was very random.

Brian shrugged, looking away from the down pour and down at her, not really sure _where_ he was going with it, "You're the literary expert. Also a writer. What is it about rain that _screams_ romance?"

"Your mind works in mysterious...and very random ways," She smirked, quirking a brow.

He chortled, "I'm just curious as to why it's the go to thing when the heats getting turned up."

"Well, it's because it requires effort and a level of personal discomfort which ultimately makes whatever the character is trying to convey to the other more meaningful," She explained to him.

"Makes sense I suppose. Have you ever been kissed in the rain?"

"What? No," Helga shook her head, feeling herself turn a tinge of red at such a personal question.

"Really?" Brian skeptically eyeballed her, "I figured you of all people would have."

Helga snorted, "Why? Because I'm a, what did you call it? Word nerd?"

"I mean...yeah," He grinned more widely at her. He wanted to tell her it was because she was a hopeless romantic, no matter what to the contrary she said, but he didn't.

Helga, for her part, was more amused than she was irritated by the question. Sure she was a little embarrassed by it, but she was learning to get over it with him, and if anything, it was a perfect opportunity to be more proactive. "Confession time?" She smirked back up at him.

"Yeah?"

"It's on my bucket list."

"Really now?" He peered at her with a concerning amount of interest, and a playful but mischievous smile dancing to his lips, He was having a hard time believing that she'd _never_ gotten _any_ guy, not _even_ Arnold, to participate in such activities with her. Of course, knowing her, she'd probably never asked, "How high on the list is it?"

"It's top ten."

"What's number one?"

"Dracula's castle."

"Oh, what?"

Helga laughed, "I want to visit Vlad Dracula's castle in Transylvania one day."

"Hmm, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Especially with your odd fondness for Halloween and all."

"Odd fondness? Since when?" She implored back. Sure, she got into the holiday spirit like most, but she wouldn't say she was ultra obsessed with spooky shit.

Brain tilted his head at her, thinning his eyes skeptically, "You _insist_ on hosting the group Halloween party every year. And you deck this place out."

This made Helga sigh while rolling her eyes, "Confession time. It's only because I'm lazy, and want to get blitzed without having to worry about driving home or...throwing up in somebody else's umbrella holder..." She trailed off, recalling a long past Halloween party incident at Rhonda and Curly's house.

"Wow...I suddenly don't feel bad about wrecking your toilet."

"Hmm, no I somehow don't think you were remorseful to begin with."

"I wasn't."

"I know."

"So what else is on your bucket list?"

"I'm not going to stand here and name off _everything._ " She told him, take a gulp of wine.

"Why? I might can help you with them."

" _Ha!_ " She chuckled, "I doubt it."

"I probably can, Mrs. Pessimistic. In fact," He turned to her, rubbing his hands together, "I can help you with one right now."

" _Please,_ " Helga began, while rolling her eyes, "What are you going to do, book us a fli—" She abruptly stopped, realizing that that was _not_ the one he was referring to. In an instant she felt her heart really accelerate and that flushed pounding in her ears make its debut. "...Brian." Before she could finish whatever it was that she was going to say, he grabbed hold of her, giant smile plastered on his face, knowing exactly what he was doing as he dragged them out into the rain under intense protest. "No!" She squealed, and he'd never heard her make such a cute girl noise.

"What? It's just a little water," He evilly teased.

"I'm getting rain in my wine!"

"It'll be fine."

"It's probably acid rain!"

"The alcohol will kill the germs."

"It's Merlot!"

He laughed and finally dipped her forward, as if they were concluding a dance, staring down at her while fat spats of rain hit her disgruntled face. "And now, my complaining little wife, you'll have one less things to complain about," He said through smirking lips. And as he started to lean down on her more, that hammering in her chest and ears became almost deafening.

It was happening.

He was going to do it.

All she could do was just close her eyes.

But in classic Brian fashion, he had other plans and instead of actually kissing her, he gave her a European greeting, exaggerating a kiss on each cheek, and over vocalizing the 'muah'. Pulling back and looked down at her and announced, "There you are. You have officially been kissed in the rain. You can thank me later."

Helga chuckled, feeling a little dumb at that point for getting so worked up over it. Of course he was going to do something funny. Of _course._ "I am just...the luckiest girl on earth right now."

* * *

 **Week later.**

Brian had headed out the door for the first overnight flight that he'd been on since they started living together, which made Helga realize that she'd have the house entirely to herself for the first time in almost a month. Initially the idea seemed really exciting to her, like she was going to just do stuff she wouldn't normally do with him there. But after doing everything she would have normally done that evening, she realized that...there wasn't really anything. It was just...quiet.

Almost too quiet.

Which was _absurd_ to her because not too long ago, she lived by herself and was perfectly content with the silence.

By about 9:00 that night, she'd written as much as she felt like writing in her book and was ready to wind down. She made herself a bowl of popcorn and got good and comfy on the sofa before beginning the daunting task of perusing the offerings on Netflix.

And that was a whole other can of worms. What should have been a straight forward, pick something and watch deal, became a riddle. Everything that she found interesting enough to want to watch, she ended up not watching and adding it to her list because she knew it was something Brian would enjoy watching too.

God, and that was a pretty magnificent looking world war two documentary too. That would be perfect to nod off to before going to bed. But she knew he had a special fondness for war documentaries so to the list it went.

She finally settled on some urban legend documentary that she could live with watching without him and tried to settle in. She managed to stay awake and watch the entire thing, which surprised her to say the least, but she decided it was time to drag her carcass to bed for the night.

Once she slipped into the sheets, she read for awhile before killing the lights which led to a bought of tossing and turning, but no sleep would befall her. She ended up just laying on her back, staring tiredly at the ceiling fan. Had she _really_ gotten into that much of a routine with him already? To the point where, him being gone for work was throwing her out of wack?

It didn't seem possible. She'd been living by herself since she was twenty-six years old. Heck, she didn't even particularly like it when past boyfriends stayed over because it threw off her solo routine. But there she was, feeling off kilter because she was...solo.

Maybe it was because Brian, unsurprisingly really, was _such_ a good roommate. She had preferred living alone because...well, because she mostly hated people. Phoebe had been her only long term house mate. But hindsight being twenty-twenty, she could have tolerated him as a house mate long before.

* * *

 **3:30am.**

Brian walked off the tarmac, feeling dog tired as he headed back to his office to call it a night...or morning rather. Once inside, he turned his phone back on and set his alarm. He doubted he'd need it, as usual, but he always did it as a precaution when he knew he'd be flying again the following night. He stripped down to his boxers and flopped onto his bed, expecting the veil of oblivion to immediately take him.

But it did not. Regrettably.

He laid there, becoming increasingly more exhausted, but unable to get comfortable, or shut his mind off enough to fall asleep. His thoughts mostly settled on wondering what Helga had done for the night. Then he began wondering if she'd had had trouble falling asleep too. Probably not. He didn't even know why _he_ was having such a hard time. Was he that sensitive to his new living situation? Had he become used to sharing his living space with another person so quickly that being alone of suddenly foreign?

He finally settled on the weather change being the culprit. Autumn had fully set in and the temperatures were dropping. Hooray! But it had been known to effect his sleep quality. But usually only the form of weird dreams though...

After forty-five minutes of laying there, trying to convince himself that his problem was temperature related, and then it was _just_ the mattress, he finally dismissed the two ideas completely and settled on something else that he'd never thought to assume. Perhaps the fact that he never had anybody at home, made him lazy about going home on these late nights, but now that there _was_ somebody at home, maybe that was making him feel more obligated to go home.

There was nothing embarrassing about admitting that he supposed. The first week was touch and go with the bed hogging ordeal, but after that had been fixed, he'd never slept better in his life than he had since living with Helga.

With that, he dragged his tired ass off of his floor bed, got dressed and made the twenty-five minute drive _home._

Helga had finally just fallen asleep at a little before four with a little help from some Advil PM. Which she grumbled about because she was going to be dragging then entire day afterwards. Thank God it was Sunday.

Brian quickly slipped into the house, shedding his clothes at the end of the bed before climbing in. Despite being thoroughly drugged, Helga halfway rolled over to see what the commotion was, far less alarmed than she could have been. "It's me," He tiredly said.

She didn't reply, choosing to contently lay back down, almost instantly falling asleep. Brian was out the minute his head hit the pillow.

* * *

 **Friday.**

"I'm heading out," Brian stopped in the hallway in front of the open door to Helga's writing room, where she sat frustratedly glaring at her iMac as if she had a serious bone to pick with it.

"Oh you giant piece of crap!" She huffed, starkly running a hand through her hair before shifting her attention over to him, "Not you, my computer."

"Well thank God for _that,_ " He chuckled, "Color wheel of death?"

"Yep."

"You know, I feel like I hear you in here yelling at this thing more often than I should. Maybe it's time for a new one." He suggested, proceeding to lean against the doorway.

"Nah, I probably just need to get it tuned up," She insisted.

"Don't fight it."

"I'm not."

"Just put it out of its misery."

"Hey. This guys has been with me a long time," She patted the side of the monitor before slouching back in the chair, "Where are you headed?"

"It's bowling night with the fellas."

Helga smirked, "Ah. Good ole' bowling night. Well have fun."

"Eugene wont be there so we can _all_ have a little more fun."

"God, that's so terrible sounding."

Brian chuckled, "I know. See you later."

"Bye."

* * *

He stepped up, took a few well placed strides, put a slight hook on his ball and...not quite a strike. But not a bad round either. He turned around to face Stinky, Sid and Harold who were sitting and held his arms out wide before shrugging with a carefree grin. Gerald and Curly were off at the bar, grabbing another round of bowling alley beer and nachos for the group, and Arnie had run off to the bathroom

Brian walked away from the lane and plopped down in one of the chairs while Stinky got up to take his turn at the alley. He wondered if Helga was still arguing with that fossil she called a computer and it made his lips flutter in a ghost of a smirk, "You know, you would think the girls would plan something on our bowling nights." He then mused aloud to his friends. It seemed liked something they would do...or should do.

Harold snorted, "You know what Patti's plans were? A glass of red wine, in bed watching true crime shows. And let me tell you, she was excited about it too."

"Boy howdy the murder shows. Sheena is _obsessed_ with them." Sid agreed and Harold nodded along with it. "She hates that I call it her murder porn."

Brian frowned in thought, "Yeah Helga doesn't really watch true crime shows. We don't really watch a lot of TV in general. I mean, we've got our favorite shows and all but..."

Sid chuckled and rolled his eyes as if he knew some big secret that his friend was woefully unaware of, "It's because you are newly married," He suggestively wagged his eyebrows, "Give it five years and add a kid, then come talk to me."

Harold started laughing. That deep barrel chested laugh he had when he was really entertained by something, "Yeah. Then next thing you know, you're hurdling said kid off to bed because you had planned some sexy time, but you both just end up falling asleep to re-runs of Dateline, or The Office instead."

"You guys really know how to sell marriage," Brian chuckled as he stared at his friend, who didn't seem at all bothered by the comment.

The big guy merely shrugged, "It's all true."

"I'm sure."

"Hey, so out of curiosity..." Sid sat back in his chair and propped one of his legs on the other, "A little guy talk here. What's Helga like in the sack?"

Sid was known for his off the wall comments and questions at times, but Brian had not been expecting _that_ type of question. Even from _him_. "Um, what?" What was even worse, was the question seemed to hold Harold's interest as well. It wasn't as if Brian was above some locker room chatting—he wasn't—but he was in the interesting pickle of having to keep up appearances while not having a clue how to respond to a question that he didn't know the answer to.

"You know..."

" _Really?_ " He deflected again, hoping that maybe Sid would give up, "I don't recall having ever asked about how _your_ wife is?"

Sid chuckled and cast his friend a mildly annoyed expression, "We'll it's because nobody cares. Everybody knows Sheena is vanilla. Which is fine, because I'm a vanilla guy. We're...very vanilla in bed, but Helga...she's that one female friend that's impossible to get a read on."

"She could be vanilla but she could also the be sinful delight that is salted caramel," Harold elaborated for his friend.

"Salted caramel? What does that have to do with any of this?"

"It's just naughty."

Brian's eyes bounced from each of his two friends, still trying to decide if he wanted to entertain their guy talk. Not once had they ever sat around and speculated anything about any of their female friends. Past girlfriends that had no group relation, sure, but never a group girl. So why all of a sudden? Had it really been _that_ burning of a question for them? Why hadn't he just asked Arnold—eh, scratch that. That guy was a total tight ass. But, they were probably not going to let it go, and at the very least he could flatter her while having some innocent fun with it.

"Honestly?" His face cracked a sly smile, "Freaking dynamite."

"Ahh, I knew it!" Sid straightened and looked off in a gloating manner.

"She wears me out. I mean, just the other night, we banged in the rain," He said the most outrageous but believable thing he could think of. When both of his friend's eyes slightly widened, he nodded, sat back and crossed his arms, internally dying with laughter. Helga was going to kill him. "In. The. _Rain_. In the backyard."

"That is exotic."

"Yeah, no wonder you don't have time to get sucked into murder porn..."

"All I'm saying is, I was ready to lock that down after the first time. But she made me chase her, and then she kept breaking things off with me, but then she would booty call me at random when we were on a break. It was madness."

"Of course she did. Very Helga," Harold nodded, eyes slant in thought.

* * *

"Does Helga and Brian being married suddenly and out of the blue still seem suspicious to you?" Gerald asked Curly as the two of them sat at the bar, waiting for their nachos and drinks to be finished. The raven haired man spun around on his stool to prop his head in his hand while resting his elbow on the counter. Eyes twinkling with inquiry.

"Go on..." Curly drew out, overly animated.

"I just still have a hard time buying that they were _supposedly_ seeing each other for all this time," Gerald remarked, " _Because..._ "

"Harold and Patty?"

" _Exactly._ Because I remember how, back in the day when they first started seeing each other on the low down, and were sneaking around, it was _painfully_ obvious to everybody what was going on. But with Brian and Helga...nothing. No different behavior just, 'oh, we're married now'."

"Maybe they were, or maybe they were bored...or maybe they are sleeper agents that have been activated!" When Gerald cast his wild conspiracy a bored look, Curly cleared his throat and settled down, "Or...maybe they just wanted to save on taxes."

At that, his friend rolled his eyes.

* * *

 **11:30pm**

Helga was still sitting in her writing room, typing a way at her keyboard while her trusty computer was being mostly behaved. She normally didn't like staying up so late, even on a weekend, but when creativity struck like a fever dream, she had to throw herself into her book and get it all out. Not only was it a creative spurt, she was having one of her more fun states of mind. One where she had herself giggling at the things she was coming up with in her book. She was well aware that she could be funny, when she wanted to be. It wasn't lost on her. But she'd never set out to be the 'funny one' of the group, leaving that mantle to be carried by Sid and Harold.

Having paused post sentence, and still rather red faced with giggles from what she'd just written, she heard the light hum and faint squeak of brakes pull up on the street. Brian was home. Biting her bottom lip, still smirking, she glanced over to the room door as a completely outrageous idea poofed into her brain.

Normally she wouldn't have dared, but she was feeling a little spunky. And also, she was tired of always being the one always getting punked. The flight, the rain. She needed to get him good. So giving it no further thought, she killed the bedroom light, and using her phone, sneaked out into the living room, tiptoeing over to her corner accent chair and lamp where she sat down and waited.

Moments later, she heard the door being unlocked, then opening and him quietly walking through the house. She waited until he was halfway across the living room, completely oblivious to her presence before she reached out and switched on the lamp, "Well, well, we—"

"God Bless America!" Brian swore as he jumped about five feet in the air. So he scared easily. Thank God. And she would be filing that away for further use. As soon as she finished laughing. And she was doubled over she was laughing so hard.

"Oh my God...your _face_ ," Helga finally wheezed, wiping the laugh tears from her eyes. Meanwhile, Brian stood by, face as deadpanned as it could be.

"Yes, laugh...laugh away, because now it's war."

"Ahh," She sat up and slapped her hands on her knees, "Well I don't scare easily so, good luck. I got you good."

"Oh I'm not going to scare you...I'm going to tickle you," Brian replied before giving her a toothy smile that was as devious as it was vibrant.

Helga inhaled, poker facing him with her own smug little smile, "I'm not ticklish." She lied. Straight up lied.

"Yes you are," He inched forward, "All girls are. It's your mortal weakness, along with showers of appropriate temperature."

She shook her head, "Nope."

Brian inched closer, before full on pacing towards her, sending her flying out of the chair and sprinting behind the couch, "Brian _no!_ " She squealed as they did that lung to the left, lung to the right routine.

"Yes!" He finally climbed over the sofa, reaching out for her. She managed to get away, running down the hallway with him in hot pursuit behind her.

"Don't you dare!" She flew into their room, going to jump on the bed, hoping to fend him off with a pillow or something, but he caught her well before she could get her desperate hands around one.

"Got you!" He triumphantly laughed. Helga felt his arms wrap around her and his fingers begin attacking her ribs, effectively stalling her into forced laughter.

" _Brian!_ " She managed to squeal as he flipped her over, continuing to pin her down and relentlessly tickle her, "No! I'm going... _Ah!_ " She couldn't breath.

"What was that?" He laughed as he pinned her arms above her head with one hand and getting all her good ticklish spots with the other, "You're what?" He teased.

Finally, after much wiggling and struggle, Helga managed to pry a single hand free, and like a cobra, strike him in the chest with a big ole' pinch. "Ouch!" He cried, sitting back on his haunches, effectively ceasing his torturous assault on her. They were both panting through smirking lips as he reached up and began rubbing the right side of his chest. She'd gotten him good. He wouldn't even be surprised if there was a bruise later. Which made him chuckle and lean back over, staring down at her with a cocked eyebrow, "You fight dirty."

Helga snorted, still catching her breath while rolling her eyes, "You're lucky I didn't go for your family jewels." He didn't immediately reply to that, his eyes wandering down, really noticing the position they'd gotten themselves into. Helga had become aware of it too.

"Well this was fun," He finally snapped his gaze and sat completely back, removing himself from atop her and then completely off the bed. He really needed to walk that one off, and he wasn't talking about the pinch either. Rough housing with an attractive girl was the last thing he _needed_ to be doing while on a dry spell. His body was going to end up doing some things that his mind just _wasn't_ ready to reconcile doing with her yet.

"Was it?" She rhetorically asked as she sat up, "I thought it was war?" She teased as she watched him walk to the bathroom. Secretly she too was thankful that he had exited the room for a moment. With things getting little bit heavy there for a second, she would admit that she was a little flustered by it. She at least understood it.

There was this guy, living in her house, up in her bed every night. It had been a hot minute since she'd had _any_ physical intimacy. Then this unattended close encounter out of the blue.

She was really missing sex. Like hardcore. That's what it really boiled down to. It was a confusing feeling though. Wanting something but not...at the same time.

"It was a war. You fought admirably," He called back, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it and his jeans into the dirty clothes hamper. He was entirely too hot to want to throw on any sleep wear at that point. Boxers it was going to be that night.

From the bedroom, Helga snorted, "Yeah, and you retreated admirably," She called back as she slid to her side of the bed, slipping under the covers.

"For now, but I'll be back. Bigger, stronger, faster than before," He retorted, reemerging from the bathroom, climbing into his side of the bed, propping his elbow up on his pillow, adjusting to face her.

Helga was suddenly finding it especially bothersome that he chose to go only boxers that night. It wasn't any different that previous nights. One thing she'd discovered, is that he hadn't any sort of bed attire code. He just went with the wind. And it seemed the wind had stolen his clothes that night. So there he was with his average dad bod, looking way more appealing than a dad bod should. That's how she knew the drought was reaching peak levels. "So..." Brian began, trying to fight a smile. And act that made Helga forget about how thirsty she was and immediately become suspicious, "If Harold and Sid give you funny looks next week, it's because I _may_ have told them you are a fox in the sheets."

Predictably her eyes widened and her lips slightly parted in a look the perfectly expressed just how dumbstruck she had suddenly become. And Brian couldn't help but chuckle, "Wha—How does that conversation even come up?" She had turned slightly red by that point.

He shrugged, "You know...guy talk." He wasn't about to tell her that their friends had straight up asked. That would make it too weird for her.

"Oh, okay," She laughed a little, shaking her head, "Cool?"

"I'm pretty sure I made you a legend."

Helga sighed, free hand coming up to rub her temple, "It just gets better and—"

"—I also may have told them that we did crazy things. Like bang in the rain."

"Oh my God..." Her eyes closed, as she had to think about that one for a minute. Her poor friends. "Now they're going to think that we are some sort of weirdos."

"Harold thought that it was exotic."

Helga scoffed, but playfully reached out and shoved his face away with her palm, "He _would._ "

* * *

 **Wednesday.**

The ole monthly pedicure appointment with Phoebe had commenced, and Helga couldn't be happier that her friend—predictably—asked the normal questions, "How has everything been going?"

Of course Helga immediately wanted to ear assault her friend with _everything_ but she wanted to be a little cool about everything too. As if Phoebe would judge either way. After all, if Helga had trapped her into being her best friend for this long, then she doubted she would run fleeing to the hills now. The Stockholm syndrome had sat in nice and good. Yes.

Abandoning that weird thought, Helga blinked once before taking a deep breath. It had been a weird few days since the tickle incident, "It's going well..." She mystically said, siren calling her friend into opening up the wormhole for her. She was ridiculous, what could she say?

Phoebe perked an eyebrow at this, her own curiosity growing and what her best friend could possibly be dying to tell her. She wasn't stupid. She knew how Helga was. And so she asked the obvious, " _Everything?_ "

"Well...we still haven't gone there," The blonde admitted, "But it doesn't weird me out anymore like it used to, to the point where I feel like I'm going a tad insane."

"Too late for that."

"Wow...Pheebs that was a hot take."

"I know. I'm sorry," She chuckled, a rosy tinge frosting her cheeks.

"So I've been on a drought. Like, a _really_ long one. Something you married people know nothing about."

Phoebe snorted, "Try having three kids. Then come talk to me."

Helga could only just blink at her friend for a moment before just choosing to continue on, "And I'm kind of frustrated to the point that...random little things that he does are starting to arouse me," Helga began explaining.

"To be fair, you married each other because you were too, in your case grouchy and in his case...I guess just lazy to keep dating, I have to assume you must have found each other arousing enough to even agree to be together."

"This is a little different. It's like I just said...its little things he does. Sipping his coffee, how he lounges around in these ripped up jeans of his on the weekends, how he...props his sunglasses on his head," Helga's brow furrowed at her friend, "His freaking _sunglasses_ on top of his _head,_ Pheebs. And God, do I love it when a guy drops their voice real low and he has this growl kind of way he says _'wow'_ that is just... _ridiculous_ really."

And her dear—though at times incredibly savage—friend apparently thought that her plight was hilarious. Because she started laughing at her. "Last time I started getting hot and bothered over things like that about Gerald, it was during that nine week, no sex period after my c-section."

"Yikes. It takes that long to recover from childbirth?"

"Those little blessings wrecked my tiny body."

"Oh my God..." Helga grimaced. That sounded horrible. Why did people do that to themselves?

"Would you like my advice?"

"Um..." Helga looked from side to side, "Yeah, I guess."

"Nike."

The blonde's face fell, "Nike?"

"Just do it."

Helga sighed in utter frustration, "It's not that simple. My brain is still firmly in the, 'this is too weird' group, and...we haven't even kissed yet."

"Sounds like you have some homework, Professor," Phoebe smirked smartly over to her friend.

"Oh... _hilarious,_ Pheebs."

* * *

 **Wednesday Night.**

Gerald was sitting at his computer, reading some football news for his fantasy team that fall, when his phone began vibrating beside him. He didn't recognize the number, but he knew of only one unknown number that would be calling at night. With a smile suddenly plastered to his face, he answered it with a, "You know I was beginning to think you might be dead."

The signal wasn't the greatest, but he heard the static voice of Arnold Shortman laugh on the other end. _"I know man. I've just been so busy."_

"Busy?" Gerald teased, "Bro it's been eight months." It was the longest he'd gone yet without hearing from the guy. "How you been? How's everything going?"

 _"Been good. Everything has been good. I_ — _"_ Gerald couldn't hear what else he said because the static cut in so heavily.

"What was that man?" He asked, "The signal is terrible."

 _"I know. I'm on a satellite ph_ — _Guinea._ "

"Oh okay."

 _"I'm going to be coming home in a few months."_

"Right on. How long are you going to be staying?"

 _"Coming back for good."_

"Seriously?"

Arnold chuckled, _"Yeah."_

"What's changed your mind all of a sudden. I thought you were planning on putting a few more years in?"

Gerald couldn't make out the first part because of static but it picked up with, " _—missing Hillwood. Sort of ready to have a normal hospital job. I've kind of missed Helga a lot too."_

"Ah...yeah man. You have to put some roots in I guess." Gerald had no idea what else to say. Especially to the last part.

 _"I've enj_ — _good but I think breaking things off her has been my biggest regret."  
_

Gerald began scratching the back of his neck, wondering how to go about telling him the news. "So listen man, about Helga. She..." Before he could finish the sentence, the static angrily raged before he heard the beeping of the line going dead. He pulled the phone away, confirming the obvious, that the call had dropped before quirking an eyebrow high, "Well that was convenient. Almost as if this is a story that might have drama later that it needs to foreshadow now."

"What?" Phoebe, who had been walking by the door on her way to bed stopped and asked.

"Just talking to myself, baby."

* * *

"Hurry up and get in here or I'm starting this Hitler documentary without you!" Brian reclined his arm long the back of the couch, peering back at the kitchen, wondering how it was taking this long to make popcorn.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." She announced, skipping from the kitchen and doing the one handed jump over the back of the couch.

"Wow...look at you," Brian chuckled, "A regular Olympian here."

There he went with that _'wow'_ growl again. Lord help her. "Yeah, yeah. Start the show already," She playfully jeered him while cracking open the bag, Brian eyeing her snack like a hungry dog.

"You planning to share any of that?"

"Nope," She gave him a smart-ass grin.

"Ouch. That's an awful mean thing to do to your dear husband."

" _Please,_ " She chuckled, "I'll eat this entire bag, and you know that." And as far as she was concerned, he should have commandeered his own snack before sitting down.

"Not even a handful?" He leaned over, smirking as he held his open palm out to her. "Surely you can spare that much."

"Your _handful_ is like half the bag bucko."

"Please..."

Brian leaned closer, and closer, and closer as she leaned further and further away before she began scooting and he began scooting and next thing she knew she was at the other end of the couch, with no where. So she just started leaning, and that's when he started crawling over her, "Brian!" She squealed holding the bag out and over her head, away from him as he crawled over top of her. As he was reaching over the arm of the couch, going to grab the popcorn bag, he glanced down at her, smirking at him. That was when he realized the he was suddenly closer to her than was probably a good idea, and it seemed to register to her as well, because they both just sort of stared at one another. What a position to end up in...over popcorn.

It was _entirely_ his fault though.

His body was well aware of the precarious position too. He wasn't even going to lie about that. "So..." He said in a breathy voice after a particularly hard swallow, "Can I have some popcorn?"

Helga barely blinked at him, completely aware at how turned on she was feeling, "Mmhmm," She instantly cleared her throat, finally somewhat getting a hold of herself, "I mean...yeah," He was right. There was still the bag of popcorn in her hand that she had quickly forgotten about. All of this was over popcorn.

"Okay."

However, instead of giving him his much desired handful of popcorn—realizing that had she given it to him to _begin_ with they wouldn't _be_ in that position—she thought it was a better idea to lean up...

 _..._ and kiss him.

Brian was admittedly _totally_ caught off guard by it, considering how she was usually the last onboard with everything, but it was a very much welcomed ice breaker. He didn't think too much more about it, happily responding back to her emboldened want with reassurance that they were on the same page. When he started kissing her back, she completely abandoned the popcorn all together, absently dropping the bag to the floor, in favor of moving said hands to his body.

And then there was a vibrating. And it kept vibrating, and vibrating with no signs of stopping at anytime. Brian finally had the presents of mind to realize that it was his phone on the coffee table. Reluctantly, he finally pulled away and leaned over to grab it, intending to silence the damn thing, but instead answering it when he saw that it was his boss Sergio. "Hello?" The interruption was a welcomed opportunity for Helga to clear her head a little, and wow, was it ever awry with a million thoughts about what was suddenly going _on._

It felt weird still, but she _didn't_ hate it.

Brian sat on the edge of the couch, giving Helga a very fleeting glance before saying, "Yeah, I can fly them. That's fine. Alright...I'll be there in about...forty-five minutes. Yep," He pulled the phone away, ending the call and giving her an apologetic expression, "So...co-worker of mine has the flu so...I've got to take his flight tonight."

She finally sat completely up, "Oh. Alright."

"Sorry," He said as he removed himself from the couch, "I guess we'll have to Hitler documentary and chill another night," He winked at her with a sly smirk.

Helga snorted, finding his ability to clear the awkward air downright inspiring. It was a freaking art. "Get out of here with that," She pushed him in the leg with her palm before going to pick up her spilled bag of popcorn.

* * *

 **A/N:** Helga's got the itch. Brian's got the itch. Somebody needs to get scratching or something. Lol. Thank you to my loyal followers and commenters! You do God's work.


	5. It'll be good for our marriage

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

 **A/N:** So I had to cut this chapter in half or else it would have been _giant._ The good news for you guys, is the next installment wont take so long to get out because it just needs to be tidied up. More goodies, and cuteness and astute observations from Phoebe.

* * *

 **It'll be good for our marriage. Like the mattress.**

"Brian, I don't know the first thing about masonry, much less constructing a full fledged fire pit," Helga said under protest as the pair walked through the local Lowe's store on a crisp Saturday Morning, each with basic white girl pumpkin spice lattes in hand.

"Neither do I, but I think this will be a fun project," He reasoned with a confident air to his gate. He'd definitely woken up on the ambitious side of the bed. Helga was in a little more grouchy of a mood. Mostly because going to a home improvement store wasn't her idea of a fun weekend morning. And he was flat out assaulting her senses with his Brian-isms. For starters, never would she ever have imagined she'd be saying _that_ about Brian Miller. For...seconds, he was wearing his weekend jeans. The ripped up ones that were so old they were in danger of disintegrating if the washing machine got a little over zealous with the spin cycle. Thirds, were the sunglasses on his head. And to cap it all off, he was sipping some damn coffee. All open lid like a rebel.

Maybe that's what she liked about it. He sipped dangerously.

" _Wow_...look at these," He stopped in front of the decorative outdoor stones, a wide smile growing on his face. Helga kind of wished somebody would run up and hit her with one of those stones and just put her out of her misery.

It. Wasn't. _Fair._

It wasn't fair because no matter how badly those tiny little things about him had really begun to get to her, like _deep_ in her bones, she knew good and well that she wasn't prepared to do _anything_ about it. Then again, last time she felt something _deep in her bones_ , she horribly misread a situation and ended up dumped instead of getting proposed to by the guy she assumed she'd be spending forever with.

So yeah, it _probably_ was arthritis.

She wasn't prepared to do anything about it because she wasn't entirely sure the things she were noticing weren't one hundred percent a figment of her deprived, sexually frustrated imagination. Some percentage, fine, but some of it had to be real before things escalated. Or else she feared the fatal awkwardness would occur that would be the end.

It was obvious she needed to get out of her head a little. And truthfully she'd probably feel a little better about everything if it weren't for the fact that it had been a solid _week,_ and neither had said a _word_ to the other about the micro make-out session on the couch. She couldn't decide if that was a bad thing or a good thing. Nothing much had changed about their routine otherwise, so she figured it couldn't mean anything _too_ terrible. Her only peace was reminding herself that he had been just as into it as she had been.

While he may have put on an indifferent show, he too was dealing with his on special brand of struggle. Especially since he was finding her more adorable than normal that morning. In her little red flannel long sleeve, with her deep blue boot cut jeans and hiking boots, hair pulled back in that weird messy bun thing that he still couldn't figure out how she managed to get to look _that_ perfectly haphazard.

And, as he had hoped would happen, he was becoming a little more attracted to her, in a romantic way, every day. He'd always found her attractive in a cute, girl next door kind of way. The type that wouldn't knock you dead, but would become more beautiful the more you got into her. This theory seemed to be ringing correct but it was still a little odd to be progressing from, finding her attractive to _being_ attracted _to_ her. Two very different things entirely. And so fast. However, he supposed that when two people of the opposite sex lived together for a prolonged period of time and didn't drive each other crazy, hormones were _bound_ to happen. Or at least that was what the internet said. He was mostly just beginning to hate how cool he could act about everything. It was becoming a curse and that bed of theirs, becoming smaller by the day, and not because she had found a new and inventive way to hog it.

Unbeknownst to him, Helga was standing beside him, having similar thoughts about their sleeping situation herself. Thoughts that she was successfully snapped from when he enthusiastically leaned down and picked up a yard stone. She had to head off that developing disaster. If she didn't, there was a high likely hood that the backyard would be littered with stone with no fire pit, "We have no idea how many we should buy. Like...zero plan here."

"How hard could it be?"

Helga sighed, but as she was taking a swig of her coffee, she saw a ready made fire pit. "Look at this one," She pointed it out, "All we have to do is just...drop it in the yard and wha-la."

Brian straightened, looking over at her option with a stone still tucked under his arm, "Well that's no fun." He found her suggestion to be incredibly defeatist.

"No fun? Psh...it's the _most_ fun. It literally requires _no_ effort. And considering neither of us knows what the hell we're doing, it seems the most responsible."

"I'm sure we could you tube a video."

"Or...we could just get this one."

"Let me have this."

"Fine, have your stone."

He smirked, "It'll be good for our marriage. Like the mattress."

"Free-styling a fire pit?"

"Yes," He adamantly nodded

"I'm already contemplating divorce just _thinking_ about it."

"Well, lets not jump to any irrational action here," He jibbed.

Helga rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, "I can't even," When she made to turn around and go look at something else, being completely done with trying to make him see reason, her eyes caught..."Oh, what about that?" Her husband turned, his gaze following hers, settling on a bundle with a sign that read _DIY Fire Pit Kit._ Came with instructions, and all the stone and things needed.

A perfect in-between of their wants.

Brian shrugged and nodded, setting his one stone back down. "I could live with that."

"Me too."

* * *

They bought the kit, a wheelbarrow, and a few other odd tools recommended by one of the store associates, before ending up at Cracker Barrel because white girl lattes weren't a sustainable breakfast. "So, what's with this sudden fire pit obsession of yours?" Helga asked, taking a sip from her coffee. He literally had dragged her out of bed that morning, much in the same fashion he had when they bought the mattress, saying that he wanted a fire pit. Two rounds of rock, paper, scissor later—one for having to go to Lowes, he won, and the other for deciding on what coffee shop to stop at, she won—and there they were.

Brian's eyes widened, sparkling with excitement. He'd perhaps gotten so carried away that morning that he'd failed to mention the story behind _why_ he'd ushered them to Lowes so early on a Saturday, "So..." He began, wadding up the paper straw cover between his fingers, "My dad used to make these cool bon fires when I was a kid. And we used to make smores and have a really good time sitting out by it in the winter. I've never had a backyard as an adult...and now I do."

Helga couldn't help but smile at that. His family sounded lovely. "Well, you could have just said that instead of making it seem like it was some unknown national emergency this morning."

"Sorry," He looked down, feeling a tad bashful at his spontaneity, "I tend to get a little excited when I focus in on something sometimes."

"Sometimes?" She teased. From there, a comfortable silence befell them as both their attentions wandered to their phones.

"Oh, looks like Arnie and Lila are skiing this weekend."

"How do you know that?"

"Facebook. You know, that thing you don't get on. Cause if you did, you would know." Brian looked across to her with a teasing grin.

Helga shifted her eyes over to him, looking very unamused as she said, "I have zero use."

"You don't say? Your last post was...only three years ago."

Helga shrugged before tossing her phone aside, "I don't want my students knowing all about me anyway." She casually explained, picking up her coffee and bringing it to her lips, hovering it there while she blew on it.

"Trust me, they don't care," Brian remarked, never looking up. Had he though, he would have caught her annoyed stare. "What do you do on your phone so much then?"

"Instagram, peruse blogs, ignore emails from my students, read mindless shit on reddit..."

Brian blinked for a moment, finding it amusing that somebody who used instagram wouldn't have _any_ use for Facebook, "That's all fine and dandy, but I can't _believe_ you aren't the _slightest_ bit interested in...reading other peoples drama, and dirty laundry to make yourself feel slightly more put together."

"Is that what you do every night before bed?"

"Yeah I just lurk."

"Nothing's changed I see," Helga copped with a chuckle before bringing her coffee to her lips and taking a sip. Brian rolled his eyes, knowing he'd stepped into that one pretty hard. "So where did they go? Powder Mountain?"

"Um..." Brian back scrolled, looking for the photos, "Yep. Awfully early in the season for snow fall though."

"I was about to say..."

"Jeez...it's been a hot minute since I went skiing," He said, more to himself than to her as he scrolled through old ski photos on his timeline, realizing that it had been about two years. It had been longer than that since they'd planned a ski trip as a gang. Kid's started coming along and what used to be an every year thing had dwindled into a fond memory.

Helga sat her coffee down, peering at her husband with a resting grin before reaching out and tapping his knuckle with hers, "Why don't we go then?"

Brian cast her an excited glanced that morphed into a smile, "That would be a lot of fun."

"So let's do it. We'll drop the fire pit stuff at the house and head up for the rest of the weekend." Admittedly, her motives were _slightly_ self serving. Skiing would be great. And if he wanted to go, then they should go. Heck, even _she_ was feeling nostalgic for some skiing. But...it would also be a _great_ distraction.

"I _really_ want to make this fire pit today so we can have a bon fire tonight."

"Are you _sure_?"

"No, but I'm thirty now and only capable of one small spontaneous decision per day."

Helga chuckled, surprisingly understanding that completely. "Fair enough," She conceded in agreement before tending to her cup.

"Hmm...your relationship status still says, 'It's complicated'." Brian observed, having gone right back to his phone.

The blonde tilted her head slightly to the side, mouth down turning into a quick frown before she shrugged and took a sip of coffee, "Still applicable."

* * *

 **Home.**

It took the _entire_ rest of the day of working together, arguing just a bit, stopping for lunch, prepping dinner chili, and making one trip back to Lowe's, to build their fire pit, but they did it. It wasn't perfect, just slightly off in one area—she tried to tell him to his insistence that it was fine—but it functioned like it was suppose to. After Brian ran down to the local landscaping place to procure some firewood. And procure he did. A whole truck load full. Helga honestly had no idea why he thought they needed that much _wood_ , but whatever, it made him happy and he had to unload it all.

She had chili that she had been chomping at the bits to make ever since the leaves started turning to tend to. Autumn was her favorite time of year. It had the best food, the best coffee, the best beer, and...blankets and in her opinion, the best clothing options. As much as she loved her summer dresses, she would tramps around in jeans, leggings and flannel year round if she could. It was the most comfortable thing aside from straight up pajamas.

It also meant she could start using her fireplace, and lounging in epic bubble bathes. Yes. Easily the best season. Thankfully Brian seemed to share her fondness for it as well, if the bon-fire beginning to rage in her backyard was any indication.

What was it with men and fires? It was like some harkening back to the cave days of mankind. Helga stepped out the back door right as he squirted another stream of lighter fluid into the simmering pit, sending the flames shooting high above the stone, _so_ much mirth on his face. "Yeah! Burn baby burn!" And now she was more than a little suspicious that the whole fire pit rouse was just so he could set things on fire.

"Hmm...I never pegged you as the pyro type," Helga teasingly chuckled.

Brian turned around, big, wide, toothy smile glowing in the sunset as she walked up beside him, "It's great isn't it? Feel the heat it's putting off," He held his hand towards it, expecting her to echo him. Helga could feel the heat just fine without removing her hands from her hips. He had that thing packed with enough wood to probably power a house and she assumed, dowsed in more than enough lighter fluid to burn the street down.

If the fire department showed up, she wouldn't be surprised at this point. Come to think of it, they probably needed some sort of permit to even have that thing, knowing Hillwood.

"Oh I feel it. It's probably going to burn all night," She finally said.

"Probably so." Watching his burning creation for a moment more, he then turned away, setting the lighter fluid down and going to collect their patio chairs so that they could sit. Helga watched, figuring it was a good time to go grab their dinner.

"I'm going to go get our chili. You want something to drink?"

Hands full with the chairs, he nodded, "I'll have a glass of wine if you are."

"I'm _always_ having a glass of wine."

"I know," He winked.

It took a bit coordination and maybe a bit of algebra, but she managed to corral two bowls of chili, two glasses, and a bottle of wine out of the back door. Something that she was proud and impressed with herself about. Brian quickly aided her by taking his bowl and glass, setting it down before taking the wine bottle off her hands as well.

"What is it tonight?" He held the bottle up read the label, "Oh, Cabernet."

"Yeah, you know. It'll stick to your ribs on these cold nights," She took it back from him after she'd sat her food down, "And keep you warm. In case this tiny burning star here fails to do the job," She shrugged at their fire pit as she topped off her glass and then his. "It also pairs well with chili."

"Oh really?" He took a sip before pulling the glass away and staring at it.

"Yep. I actually used a little bit of it to de-glaze the pot after I browned the beef."

"What does that mean?" Brian asked, genuinely having no idea what she was talking about. When it came to cooking, it was all Greek to him.

"When you brown something, little flavor bits stick to the bottom of the pot, so in order to get them off you de-glaze with a liquid," She explained, taking her seat and sitting her bowl in her lap.

Brian followed suit, "Wow...that's cool."

"Mmhm," There he went again with the ' _wow'_ again. At least he was sans sunglasses and coffee. She needed to just focus on eating. So that's what she did. Shoved a spoonful of chili in her mouth.

"So, do you think you could...teach me how to cook something sometime?"

A request that caught Helga off guard, at first thinking he might have been joking, but seeing the genuine expectation for a serious response from her had her pausing, and then shrugging, "You _want_ to learn? I thought me feeding you something that wont put you in an early grave was one of your gains in this marriage?"

A smile broke out across his lips, eyes shifting back to his food, scooting his spoon around in it kind of nervous like, "Yeah, it is. But...what if you go out of town one weekend? I'd starve to death at this point." Truthfully, over his relatively brief co-habitation with her, he'd observed how much she enjoyed cooking and how relaxing she made it seem. He figured that...maybe it was something that... _they_ could enjoy doing... _together_.

"Oh you would?"

"Uh huh."

"What about your beloved fast food?"

"My once fortified gut of steel has been softened by the wholesomeness of real food, so I'd probably die from eating that too."

"I suppose I shouldn't commit manslaughter then."

"It would be a crying shame, really," He chuckled before sitting back in his chair and choosing to dig into his meal before the dropping temperature got to it. They both opted to shut up in order to gobble down their food. When he saw her finish hers, he stood up and pointed to her bowl asking, "Done?"

"Yep," She handed it off, assuming he was planning to take it inside. Which he was, because he wanted to grab his blue tooth speaker so it wouldn't be so quiet back there. Not that conversation wasn't enough, but some light background tunes _always_ made things better.

Helga leaned back in her chair, feet propped on the edge of the pit stone, staring into the fire's abyss while drinking her wine and letting her food settle. So, she wasn't even going to lie, she was _kind of_ into that fire pit life. She heard Brian come back out and then the sound of music begin to play from under the patio. She snapped her head around, copping him an elevated eyebrow stare.

"We needed tunes," He nonchalantly told her as he began sauntering back over, moving his shoulders in time with the walking bass line of the song.

"Did we?"

"Uh huh."

"What? Can't stand your own thoughts?"

"Whoa...that was a _stinger_." He feigned offense, grabbing his wine from his chair, "You are incredibly mean to me, you know that?"

" _So_ mean," She humored him with a playful scoff, watching him continue to sway to the music. Seeing as he looked to have no intention of returning to his seat anytime soon, she decided to stand as well. She hated trying to hold a conversation with someone while sitting when they weren't. It seemed like an odd and very specific complaint, but she was a professor, it happened surprisingly often with students. "Also, you might want to be careful with your beloved weekend jeans there. They look to be only about one hot move away from disintegrating to dust. Of course maybe you should finally put them out of their misery anyway."

"I think you secretly like them."

" _Ha_..." Was all she could say before pulling her glass to her lips. Oh, how right he was. Like them or not, she'd still prefer he not wear them at that point. Whether it be from choice or from the Lord finally choosing to take them, she didn't care, they just had to come off. _Gah!_ Now it sounded even _worse._ "How long have you had those things anyway?"

Brian glanced down at his beloved jeans, having to think about that for a second, "Uh...since I was...nineteen I believe."

"Yeah, time to put them out of their misery." As if she were one to talk. She still had shirts from high school that she slept in. Thankfully he didn't appear observant enough to realize that she wore a Hillwood High senior tee at least once a week to bed.

Unfortunately, Brian and those pants were ride or die. He couldn't even fathom destroying them. He jived back over to stand in front of her, looking down with an expression that suggested he was seriously inspecting her own attire, "What's with all the flannel? It got cold and now I live with a lumber jack." He reached out and flicked her collar between his index and middle finger.

His jab sent his wife's mouth dropping open in offense, one hand falling to her hip, "You know, I was _just_ about to compliment you on your fire pit idea too, but never mind."

"Were you now?"

"I was, _dear,_ but now...maybe I've changed my mind," She smartly peered up at him, running her tongue over the inside of her cheek.

Brian grinned down at her before putting on a slightly poutey face, puckering his bottom lip out, "What if...I said...you look _great_ in flannel?"

"Well...in that case...I think your fire pit was a _great_ idea."

"Aww, see, now how bad was that?" He leaned in a little closer.

Helga's breath slowed a little, "Dreadful..." Brian leaned down further, closing the space between them, lips coming to rest on hers for a _very_ gentle kiss. She could taste his caution as her mouth moved to greet his. If this was his way of talking about the other night on the couch, then she was _fine_ with it.

But he pulled away a little sooner than she'd been expecting, momentarily resting his forehead against hers. He didn't want to, but much like before, if he didn't stop, or if something didn't stop him, things were going to get out of control, and he didn't want that to happen. Despite his...man struggles he _liked_ the pace things were going. He was comfortable with that. He felt no need to rush just to satisfy his physical wants. He considered it to be dating at that point. Except with much riding on getting it right, "Sorry. Had to cross something off my bucket list." He straightened back up, still looking down at her. Time to play cool.

Helga peered back up at him, eyes narrowed at his audacity. That joker was trying to clear the air again. But what could she do other than play along, "Kissing someone via fire pit light?"

"Don't judge, _Dracula's Castle._ "

"Oh my God..." She scoffed, reached up and palmed him away. Partially because of his ridiculousness and partially because she was irritated with the situation.

* * *

Gerald had held on to his secret for _three whole days._ A personal record for him considering his history of confidential information just volunteering itself out of his mouth. But, as usual, he felt like he was about to bust. He didn't know if what he knew could even be considered a secret really. It wasn't as if Arnold had sternly instructed him to tell know one of his homecoming.

Still, it was while he and Phoebe were retired to bed for the night, getting in an episode of Stranger Things that she finally called him out. "What is it you want to tell me?" He should have known better. She _would_ know that he was hoarding information. Probably because he just kept glancing at her as if he wanted to tell her something. And truth was, Phoebe didn't have three children...sometimes she had _four._

"Arnold called me the other day and said he's moving back to Hillwood and thinks breaking up with Helga was the biggest mistake of his life." There he said it.

His wife sighed, reaching up and rubbing her forehead out of tiredness, "Oh goodness." Just what everything needed right then. And after considering some possible outcomes for a very brief moment, she followed up with, "You can _not_ tell the gang just yet."

"Why?"

"Helga."

Gerald rolled his eyes, knowing exactly where she was going. He was only aggravated because he thought his wife coddled her best friend _way_ too much, "What does she care at this point? She's _married._ Which, if we're being honest is sketchy as hell. I mean, you don't find anything _at all_ suspicious about her and Brian?"

Phoebe inhaled and put on a show of rolling her own eyes, "For the last time, _no._ " She felt bad for making her husband feel like he was crazy, especially when his instincts were spot on, but in that instance, it _was_ for the best. "I realize she's moved on, but you know how she is. If she finds out he's coming back, that head of hers will start thinking too much and then she'll start second guessing _everything_." She hadn't really known what to think about what Helga and Brian had decided to do. On some days, she still didn't. But whatever drove them to make that decision, seemed to be working, because they both appeared to be more content those days. Dare she say even... _happier._

"Well, if he calls back I'm telling him about her being married now."

"I'm surprised you didn't."

"I was about to. The call dropped though. Also suspicious."

"Maybe it'll put a stop to him coming back and starting problems."

Gerald's face scrunched, "Damn baby..."

Phoebe sighed, "I'm sorry. I love him and I know he's your best friend and all, but I have absolutely _no_ desire to relive the Helga and Arnold era."

Her husband thought about that for a second, slowly remembering _those_ days. Days where he watch his best friend and Helga appear content, but chronically frustrated with one another because of their inability to just say what they were thinking, "Actually, me either. I mean, three years together and they couldn't figure their shit out?"

"It's because they liked the _idea_ of one another but not much else. Just look at Helga's dating preferences since. When left to her own devices she gravitates exclusively to tall, funny, causally sporadic, career easy men..." Phoebe momentarily trailed off on that thought. Arnold was a rugged fellow, the shortest guy of the group, and who was _so_ focused on changing the world that he'd abandoned a comfortable life to move abroad to work in developing nations. Noble work but a Helga _nightmare._ And the fact that he had to break things off with her so he could do _just that_ , should have been a _giant_ indicator to the both of them. So...what was Brian then? "The exact opposite of Arnold." She concluded, sounding mildly shell-shocked.

"Hmm..." Her husband hummed in a considering manner. True, opposite of Arnold _but_ , also a _pretty_ good surface description of Brian, he'd have to admit. "I guess when you say it that way, she and Brian running around makes a lot more sense to me."

Phoebe went to say something else but once again, words got hung up as her brain was still fully digesting her newest revelation. She had never connected the dots because the situation was _so_ entirely bizarre on it's surface, but perhaps that's why things seemed to be _working._ Brian actually did check a lot of Helga's boxes. Boxes she probably didn't even realize she _had,_ much less that Arnold didn't fit what she _really_ wanted. "Strangely...yes."

"I think he's just lonely. He's coming home and just hoping for something familiar. Maybe dude wants to believe things will be different."

"You're probably right, but he really just needs to let bygones be bygones."

* * *

"Okay, so..." Helga heard Brian trail off, beckoning her to look up from her book. She was all tucked into bed for the night while he'd been scrubbing the smoke out of his hair in the shower. Although, now that she thought about it, the shower had stopped some time ago, and it had been suspiciously quiet in there ever since, "Not that I was in the closet looking through your wardrobe or anything, but..." He then stepped through the small crack in the bathroom door, revealing himself to be wearing...a ladies fur coat. London length, but still much too short and small for his tall, broad self, "Please tell me the story behind this thing."

His wife lolled her head back on her shoulders, " _Ha!_ "

"I've _never_ seen you wear this. Is it a family relic?" Brian perked an eyebrow, turning and striking a pose. "From a great grandmother that was stylish beyond all reason?"

"Hardly," She sat her book down, watching him continue to look ridiculous wearing that thing, "It's Rhonda's, and I've been asking her to come get it for two years now." She explained, recalling it having been left after a long ago game night.

"Ah. Yeah I leave my fur coats everywhere too," Brian nodded with a chuckle, "I just...have so many."

"She also has a pair of Louboutin heels still at Pheebs house. A crocodile clutch at Lila's. A Dior watch _and_ set of earrings at Nadine's. Let's see what else..." Helga trailed off.

"Jeez, the world is her closet. Hey, what if I just started sporting around at night in this like it was a robe?" He pushed the coat back and propped his hands on his hips. "How much of a dapper thirst trap would I be?" Helga let go of an exaggerated sigh and leaned over to her night stand, opening up the drawer and rummaging. "What are you looking for?"

"The emergency divorce papers," She looked back at him with a sly smirk on her face.

Brian chuckled, "That's the second time today."

* * *

 **Late September.**

It was that time. Time for Brian to haul his carcass out of bed and start another work day. Helga, of course, had left over an hour prior for her early morning class. Something that made little to no sense for someone who wasn't a morning person to schedule, but hey, he wasn't going to tell her how to run her job. He was just still impressed at his ability to sleep through her seventy-five alarms she needed to rise and shine. Maybe it was a sign. But he got up, and then dressed, and then found himself in the kitchen pantry, grabbing for a box of raisin bran for a quick bowl of cereal because he was too lazy to throw a burrito in the microwave that day.

It made no sense, but at least he didn't have to blow on cereal to get it to that perfect temperature to avoid a burnt roof of his mouth because he was impatient. He dumped a reasonable amount into a bowl, frowning at the tan flakes that were sparsely peppered with dark brown bits before picking up the box and inspecting the marketing claim. "I highly doubt that..." He mumbled. For whatever reason, he pulled out his phone and took a picture...and sent it to Helga.

 _'Does this look like two scoops to you?'_ He asked.

 _'Lol. Welcome to 30.'_

Brian chuckled at how true it really was before texting back, _'I used to hate when my parents bought this because it had raisins. Now I'm disappointed that it doesn't have enough. Madness.'_

 _'Put a banana in it. It'll change you life.'_

At her suggestion, Brian's eyes wandered to the fruit bowl. Reaching over, he snapped a single banana off of the hanger and laid it completely in the bowl, unpeeled and took another picture. _'Am I doing this right? I'm new.'_

 _'Perfect. Haha.'_

* * *

Helga was smack dab in the middle of enjoying the bliss of a bath bomb, and a glass of red wine when she heard a light knock on the door and a, "Hey...what are you doing in there?" She opened her eyes into the thinnest of slits, admittedly irritated by his intrusion into her relaxation time. Which she shouldn't have been. He _never_ bothered her. But, she was still used to never being bothered period. What could she say? Old habits really did die very slowly.

"Soaking in the tub."

"So...I'm having a contact problem right now and I really need to get in there and get my glasses or...well I'm going to be bumping into everything."

Luckily for him, she'd picked a darker sudded bath bomb that night, so it made it very easy for her to slide down into the water to conceal herself. "Yeah sure," She sat her glass on the tubs edge and did just that.

Brian wasted no time opening the door and heading straight to the vanity, not even sparing her a glance, which made Helga realize that he really did have an emergency on his hands. She watched him pop both of them out of his eyes, choosing to flick them into the trash instead of into their containers. As someone who had never had to wear even glasses, it was all rather fascinating for her to watch. He dumped a few drops of solution into each eye before blinking and slipping on his black rimmed glasses.

"What happened?"

"I was out by the fire pit and I think some ash blew into my eye and they felt scratchy so..." He turned, just then remembering that, not only was she there, but she was chilling in the tub. Naked in the tub. Though he couldn't see anything, it was...odd for him, to say the least. Realizing that he had awkwardly trailed off, he cleared his throat, "I uh...I think those were ruined." He thumbed to the trashcan.

"Oh. Interesting."

"So you really dig soaking in some bathes huh?" He remarked. An honest observation, as he'd notice her sudden fondness for basking in the tub almost every other night, but he was kind caught between wanting to leave and...not. And talking was the only way _not_ to have to leave right away.

Helga quickly chuckled, "It's my winter jam." She herself was trying to decide whether he had innocently picked that moment to take note of her habit or if he was finding an excuse to linger. With him, it could be either, and it made it all the more frustrating for her. Again, as if she had _any_ room to talk. Mrs: come on to me please—no don't I'm not ready for that yet.

"More like winter obsession," He cracked a tiny side smile.

"Don't knock it until you try it," She said, bringing her hand up to grab her wine, careful not to come too far out of the water, but cutting it unnervingly close.

Something that made Brian's eyebrow tick upward in such a minuscule manner that he was hopeful it couldn't be seen behind his glasses. Which was a good thing, because it probably would have alerted her to some thoughts hanging out in his mind right then. It was a big tub, and he wouldn't be the slightest bit shocked if he found out that it was the only reason she bought that particular house.

The point his mind was trying to make before wandering off was...it was a _big_ tub. Big enough for two people. _Even_ a tall dude like him.

But...

He was going to walk away from that impulse. The very _last_ thing he wanted was her to be completely put off by him assaulting her bath time. He cleared his throat again, "I need to go extinguish the fire insid—outside," He shook his head, pushing himself away from the vanity and towards the door, "Enjoy your bath."

As soon as the door clicked shut, Helga dropped her head back against the wall, sighing in aggravation, "This is insanity..." She muttered.

* * *

"Hows that? Small enough?" Brian turned from the cutting board, showing Helga his first attempt at dicing an onion. She'd kept her word about trying to teach him to cook, and she'd quickly realized _why_ he had eaten out so much before getting married. Eggs. Literally eggs were the only thing he knew how to cook. And cooked well, she'd give him that. Never the less, she liked a good challenge, and he was willing to learn. She was no gourmet chef herself or anything, but she'd decided a long time ago that she didn't want have to rely on others to eat anything decent.

She'd just finished running a few slugs of olive oil around in the skillet to heat up before inspecting his handwork. Bless him. He'd tried. And not bad for a first attempt at dicing an onion ever, but not quite there, "Still way too big."

Brian giggled, "Hmm...not the first time a woman has ever told me that," Turning back to his onion, he kept side-eyeing her, waiting for her reaction.

Helga deadpanned him, hand automatically falling to prop on her cocked hip. He _wanted_ a reaction, and she just wasn't going to give in, "Did they wither away from hunger, waiting for you to dice the onions small enough?" She clapped back with a smart smirk.

"That's exactly what happened. God rest their souls."

Helga watched him for a moment, seeing how little finesse he had with the knife, despite her sort of explaining it to him a moment ago. There was a teachable moment there. "So, how about I show you how to make chopping less barbaric and more fluid." She stepped towards him.

"Yeah, show me this rocking motion you were referring to." He ceased his chopping.

"Here," Helga reached in and put her hand over his that held the knife and took his other and placed his palm over the top of the blade. She then acted as the puppeteer of his hands, "Down, forward, then up while rocking backwards using the board," She did the motion with him a few times, "See how smooth that is?"

"Mmhm."

Helga then gently let go and let him continue to rocking the knife back and fourth over the onions, "You got it." She scribbled her fingers on his backside a few times, smiling up at him.

* * *

 **Early October.**

Helga walked into the bathroom, preparing to brush her teeth for the night, seeing Brian standing at the vanity, running a razor down the side of his lathered up face. "Night shaving now?"

He sighed eyed her momentarily before looking back at the mirror to continue his task, "Yeah. I've got a super early flight in the morning and I know I'm not going to feel like doing it, " He wasn't a hairy dude—thank _God_ —probably because it all chose to gather together for a party on his face instead of everywhere else. Which meant…lots of shaving. Something his dad had warned him about. Apparently it ran in the family.

His wife lightly chuckled before choosing to hop up and sit on the vanity and watch him versus her original reason for being in there, "You have no idea how much I appreciate your daily commitment."

"Yeah?" His mouth pulled up into a small side smile, "Why?"

"Well..." She nonchalantly shrugged, "It seems like it's a thing for guys to just _stay_ in that prickly stage. I guess it's laziness or something. Arnold was the worlds worse and it drove me _nuts._ "

"Nothing sexy about kissing sandpaper huh?"

" _Nothing._ "

"Personally, my face gets itchy as hell when I do that. So I don't…" He finished his last swipe of the razor before reaching out and rinsing it up the running water. "I'm delicate I guess," He cast her a goofy smile, shrugged and then rinsed his face in the water. Drying his face, he reached over and retrieved a small bottle that had a gentlemen mustache on it. "See, I even have moisturizer."

Helga snorted, "Yeah you're delicate all right," She teased as she watched him apply a small amount to his fingers and rub it into his freshly shaven face. He did have a very soft face, based on the few encounters she'd had with it. It also smelt very subtly of cologne and she realized that was where that pleasant smell about him came from.

"Want to feel? You'll be jealous."

" _Please,_ " She rolled her eyes, "I'm no stranger to a good moisturizer. You should feel my legs. _Satin._ " She regretted saying it the moment it left her mouth. It sounded entirely like a soft come on. And maybe it sort of was if she were being honest. Not to mention it would probably green light him for some blush worthy comments he always seemed to have ready.

"Oh, so I touch yours, you touch mine it is then?" Yep. There it was. She felt her cheeks heat up as he took a side step so that he was right in front of her. Of course before she could reply, he had to take it one step further and run his index up the side of her knee and outer thigh. "Pretty smooth, but no match for my baby soft face."

Though her breath had gotten dangerously shallow, she still had enough wits about her to throw him a narrowed look and a smart little sneer, "Doubtful. Your moisturizer has a mustache on it. What kind of marketing is _that?_ " She goaded him.

Brian bemusedly chuckled at her antics, "Deflection, huh? Scared of being wrong?" He leaned in closer to her.

"Not often," She copped back, but reluctantly pulled her hand up and ran it down his, admittedly, _very_ soft cheek for a man's face. "Pretty smooth. I'll give you an eight out of ten."

"Only an eight?" He playfully frowned and Helga noticed her thumb subconsciously creep across his bottom lip, barely paying attention to what he'd said. They were soft too, but she already knew that. Her mind was in a battle with her body. It just wanting something to happen already and she still firmly against it out of awkwardness. And in the midst of that battle, she forgot to reply back to him, instead, choosing to lean forward and plant her lips onto his. He gently, if not a tad hurriedly, greeted her back, moving his mouth against hers.

Helga's free hand came up and grabbed a handful of his shirt as he leaned forward, placing one hand on her thigh. Things felt more forward than before, and neither was sure who was leading the charge on that. Maybe both. But neither was doing a very good job keeping things under control, and instead of pulling himself way, he leaned even further into her and...

Pushing her into the sink of the vanity, jabbing her lower back into the faucet, "Ow! _Ow!_ _Dammit!_ " Helga broke away from him, frantically heaving herself out of the bowl and back onto the top of the vanity.

Brian couldn't help but start laughing, watching her twist around and side eye her backside, "Apparently, your faucet is not a fan of PDA." Helga looked back at him with an unamused expression. Clearing his throat, he leaned around her and mean mugged the faucet, "Pipe down, old guesser."

"Really?"

"Get it? _"_

"Yes. I get it."

* * *

"Up, up, up!" Helga ripped the covers off of Brian early Saturday morning, in exactly the same fashion that he'd done to her _twice_ before and with an playfully evil twinkle in her eyes.

"Why?" He whined while rolling over, throwing his arm across his eyes.

"Halloween approaches and we have decorating to do."

"It's two weeks away..."

"Nice try."

"How about a round of rock, paper, scissors?" He groaned in desperation, really not wanting to get up. He was so comfortable, and warm.

"Nope."

Brian sighed, removing his arm to pry his eyes open. So this was how she felt when he'd done it to her. Fine. He wasn't about to be a poor sport about it. If one couldn't take it, don't dish it out. "Alright..." He slowly sat up, "I'm up."

* * *

He'd assumed that they'd go out to breakfast first, and then spend a modest amount of time that afternoon decorating. Sure, he saw how committed she was about decking out her house for their party, but surely she had it down to a science. A process. Knowing her, she probably even had a grid-plan and labels for everything.

However that didn't happen. They drank their coffee over plates of breakfast poutine—delightful might he add—before she had him up in the attic pulling down her haunted collection.

"Lord have mercy, how much more is there?" Brian remarked after hauling down the seventh, count 'em _seventh_ , Rubbermaid container housing all of Helga's Halloween garb.

"Really?" Helga peered down through the crawlspace above him, thinking he were being completely ridiculous, and making sure her expression displayed just that, "How do you think this place gets decked out?" His words. She didn't even consider it _that_ much.

"Well how many more then?"

"That's the last one," She turned and started back down the ladder. Once down, she closed up the hinge door and they moved all the containers to the living room where she began opening them up. She had a strategy for unpacking, much like she did packing it.

"So, if I'm to take what you said seriously...you spend _all_ this time putting all this stuff up, _just_ so you can get white girl wasted at home." Brian smirked at her while crossing his arms. He wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, but he also wouldn't be surprised if she did just really like Halloween.

Helga chuckled and shrugged, "Mostly."

"Are you sure it's not because you _secretly_ like Halloween?" He quizzed with the raise of an eyebrow. Now he was convinced. Nobody took that much care of their stuff if they didn't secretly like it, "Not even a little?"

"Well maybe just a little..." She admitted, admiring her garb like a proud parent.

"Admitting is the first step."

She made to swat at him, but he jumped away too quickly.

Despite his reluctance in the beginning, he actually kind of got into the whole decorating thing once he started. Surprisingly, she'd given him a container and turned him loose in the living room. The only decorating he'd ever done in his life was for Christmas. And that was outdoor only. He came from a Christmas loving family. They'd go to the tree farm Thanksgiving night and pick out a tree and then spend black Friday decorating it. He and his dad used to spend hours putting lights on the house. bushes and trees. His mom would be just as festive inside with her snow men, nut crackers and nativity scenes, but when it came to Halloween, she threw spooky door wreath on the door, handed out candy to trick-or-treaters and called it a day.

But while everything else had been pretty straight forward, he met his match with the fake spiderwebs. "Helga..." His wife poked her head out of the kitchen where she'd just finished putting the fake poison vile's and bottles on the tops of her cabinets. She saw her husband, hands full with a ball of webbing, stretching it between his hands like it was an accordion. "How does this become webs?"

"Very carefully," She chortled as she walked over to him, holding her hands out, "Want me to show you?"

"Are we going to have another Ghost moment like we did cooking?" He grinned down at her.

"Oh, where _I_ get to be Patrick Swayze and _you_ are Demi Moore?"

"Hmm...we really need a power shift here don't we?" He considered.

"I guess you need to learn to do more things first," Helga sneered smartly up at him before going to take the webbing from him.

He snatched it away from her reach, "I can do plenty of things." He then proceeded to play a game of keep of way.

"Like what. You going to teach me to fly a plane?" She was chronically amazed that they contentiously got into these playful spats. It was entirely _too_ easy to flirt with him. But it made her feel good.

Brian chuckled, "I could. Or...I could give you some ski lessons."

"Hey...I ski just fine, thank you very much," She made to snatch the webbing for the nth time, only for him to dangle it higher out of her reach.

"You're an okay skier. Not great like me," He boasted.

"Oh, excuse me, _Lindsey Vonn_."

" _Thank you._ I knew you recognized my obvious talents." Helga rolled her eyes, smile still ever present on her face as she went to reach for her spider web one last time. A move that ended up with him dangling the ball well over his head. "Come get it, shorty," He teased.

Helga had ended up right up on him, arm raised in what she quickly saw was a futile attempt at retrieval. "I'm not even short. I'm like five-six."

"Short to me."

"Well no shit," She finally abandoned her attempt and chose to give him a narrowed stare that was as equally playful as it was mysterious, "How about I just pinch you?"

Brian caught her stare, wondering what she was up to, but still managing a throaty little chuckle towards her threat, "I'm pretty sure that's an act of war that will get you tickled."

"Yeah…" She sighed, appearing to abandon the idea entirely, "You're right."

"Hmm…I knew you'd see reas— _ow!_ " He yelped as she struck him in below his right nip with a hideously sharp pinch that caused him to crumple over long enough for her to snatch the webbing from his hand. She wasn't quick enough to get as far away from him as she needed to though. He quickly recovered, bounding a few steps before grabbing her and wrestling her to the couch. "Oh, I got you now," He laughed in a evilly deep voice as he pinned her down, "Prepare to laugh! Against your will!"

"No, no—wait! How about a compromise?" Helga squealed, trying to wiggle free, something she already knew was practically pointless by then.

"No compromise! You must suffer the consequences of your actions." He deemed, still playfully but darkly smirking over top her. He then reached down and tickled at a couple of her ribs, sending her into a fit of laughing and squirming, attempting to try to get away from it.

In the midst of all that she finally managed to lean up to him, narrowing her eyes, "Oh, you are such a _jerk._ " He wanted to laugh at the helplessness that she'd brought on herself, but…he kissed her instead. He wasn't even sure if she would react favorably to it, considering that he had her in a compromising position, he just knew that it was what he felt like doing.

Helga was stunned by the action, mostly because there was other things going on, like the fact that she was being held against her will and _tickled._ Mentally, she'd barely noticed that he'd let her free. She supposed because his hands had crept elsewhere and her mouth had been quick to take over any other rational thoughts that had the potential of forming, moving against his more hurriedly and desperately than anytime before. Her hands were quick to slither up around his neck, pulling him more into her.

As they continued exploring each others mouths, the haze was beginning to take over his brain, forcing much of his decision making to another, more primal department. The department that had him shifting forward, and bringing her hips up so that he could grind against her. He felt his knee fall between the valley of the couch cushions, something that he wouldn't have thought anymore about, except for that it bumped into something more solid.

Which turned out to be the channel changer.

Which turned the TV on.

And somehow blasted the volume sky high startling them both out of their bubble.

"It's Devine sabotage!" Brian groaned, and dropped his face into the pillow beside hers.

Helga chuckled, running a hand over her head and through her hair, feeling flushed, disappointed but also simultaneously _relieved_. "I'm beginning to believe it." Her husband leaned back, pushing himself completely off of her before digging out the channel changer and flipping the TV off. While he was doing that, Helga had pushed herself back upright, still feeling her heart beat wildly, though it had calmed considerably from a few moments prior.

Nothing was said for a solid minute as they both desperately tried to mentally shake the feelings of arousal. "Can we talk about this?" Brian was the first to speak. And seeing as he couldn't come up with a single other way to clear the air, talking it was going to be.

"Please," Helga said, relief coating her voice. Relief that he could detect and was mightily thankful for.

"Look…I know that I'm probably giving you like…the most mixed signals imaginable. We have these little moments, something happens and I play cool and walk away."

"Yeah…you _do_ , do that," Helga had to agreed.

"I don't do it because I get weirded out or anything." He then looked off, a little bit of embarrassment washing over his face, "The fact is, if my knee hadn't have hit that remote I would have hauled you off to our room because it's been _so_ long that I'm _desperate_ for something to happen…" He then glanced back at her, "But that's not _me_ talking."

"It's not me talking either." Helga admitted, catching his eyes. When his eyebrows raised in surprise she shrugged. As much as she hated discussing politics, religion and finances, she hated discussing her feelings _even_ more. Even to Phoebe. But they were married, and she figured that if she wanted it to _stay_ that way, she had to get in the habit of being more transparent in that department, "You are my friend, and now we're married. And now we're having to figure out how to actually _be_ married." Now it was her turn to feel a little self conscious. She knew she was probably already turning red, "There are… _things_ about you that have become _so_ attractive to me. Little things you do, little things you say, and…I don't know…I…"

Brian chuckled. Not because it was funny necessarily, but because he could sympathize one hundred percent with what she was attempting to say. "You don't know if any of it is actually real though."

"Yeah, exactly," She sighed, but slightly smiled, "I may be a tough cookie, but that doesn't make me immune to my own physical wants. Especially when it's been a minute."

Her husband smirked back at her, "Well we knew that."

"Don't say it," She warned, knowing what he was going to say, but grinning the entire time.

"Booty call."

"I hate you."

"Oh no, whatever will I do?" Brian chuckled before looking straight ahead, taking a deep breath and then replanting his eyes on her, "For what it's worth, _I'm_ not in a hurry. I'm actually enjoying the pace that everything is moving at. You get a little more alluring to me everyday, and I'd like to keep it that way for now. At least until I decide that it's actually real."

"I'd like that," Helga nodded, "But, can we agree to one more thing?" She still couldn't believe she was _even_ asking this of Brian freaking _Miller._

"Sure."

"Can we loosen up just a little with this?"

"You mean so it doesn't come up in these random burst of uncontrollable lust that leads to us subtly avoiding one another like the plague?"

His wife snorted, "Yeah. Maybe we can spread that out some."

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, they are moving along, and getting to know one another a little more. Exciting things to come!


	6. But did you die?

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

 **A/N:** You guys see now why I cut the last chapter where I did? It would have been like 20,000 words! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this, I _really_ do. There's a lot of fun stuff going on.

* * *

 **But did you die?**

Dating. Casually dating. _Very_ causally dating. That was the vibe that their whole interaction with each other had taken on since their 'talk.' Or at least that's how it felt to Helga. Kind of immediately too. It was an awkward talk, but she was glad that they had it. At the very least they both now understood that, for the most part they wanted to be around one another _a lot_ …but sometimes they just didn't. And it was nothing personal it was just, each working through their _togetherness_ at their own pace.

But at least the air had been cleared.

* * *

 **Tuesday.**

Helga was a little worse for wear waking up that morning. And no, it wasn't simply because it was early and an absolute ice cube outside. Winter was definitely going to be hell that year. Her seventy-five alarms felt especially loud and especially far apart and the minute she swallowed, she knew why. Sore throat, head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice grip, body aching. She had a cold. And by the feel of it, _severe_ cold.

Silencing her phone alarm she then lumbered out of bed to get the one across the room. She hated being _that_ person. The one that _conveniently_ got sick early in the week, but she was going to have to cancel her morning class at the very least. There was _no way_ she could shake this enough to get moving by the time she needed to. When she made to return to bed to send out the emails that she needed to mark herself absent, she noticed Brian was missing.

And there was no reason on earth he would be up that early. He hadn't an early flight, or a late flight. The bathroom light wasn't on either. As bad as she felt, she felt the need to go find him before getting back into bed.

Find him she did, sitting on the couch leaning forward with his head in his hands. "You okay?" She croaked. It was weird to her how unlike her, her voice would sound when she was sick.

"I feel like I got hit by a bus." He slowly pulled his head up, staring at her with deep circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept much or at the least, very well, by the looks of it.

Ah, so it was shared sickness. Lovely. "Me too."

"I wonder if it's the flu."

"Don't jinx us," Luckily for them, Helga was a responsible enough adult to always have some sort of cold related sinus medicine lurking around in her cabinet. And for the love of God, she hoped that it wasn't anything more than what cabinet medicine was capable of curing. "Come on," She motioned for him to follow. He did, without any explanation of why, just assuming that there was some sort of pharmaceutical relief involved.

She doled out some severe cold and sinus pills before making them each a mug of hot herbal tea, to the protest of Brian, who had never drank a sip of _warm_ tea in his life. "How about, you have tea and I'll make myself some coffee?" He suggested as he poked at the tea bag in the cup with his finger.

Helga tiredly stared at him, especially unamused by his griping that morning, "Coffee will aggravate your throat. Have I steered you wrong yet?"

Her husband stared at the mug a little longer before finally sighing with, "No…" He admitted. He didn't like warm tea though. Well…he didn't _really_ know. Being a person that barely liked cold tea, he assumed that a temperature change would have little effect on his dislike.

"Then shut up and drink it." Which he did. And while it wasn't _terrible_ tasting, he definitely knew, as he had predicted, that warm tea _wasn't_ for him either. But it did feel good on his scratchy sore throat, he'd give her that. Really good, actually. "I'll make us something to eat."

Brian nodded, taking another sip of tea before making his way back to the couch. While he waited he texted his boss about his impending absence from work that day. There was no way he felt like doing a wad of flight lessons that day. He didn't have the focus with his aching head and body.

Once he was done with that, he sat back on the couch and flipped on the TV putting it on a morning news show just for some noise while he finished his tea. It didn't seem like much time passed before Helga was handing him a plate of avocado toast with a couple slices of bacon over top. He'd never eaten the concoction before Helga, but it had quickly become one of his favorite breakfasts.

"Thanks," He said, taking the plate and digging in while she joined him on the couch. They ate in relative silence, both halfway paying attention to the morning show.

Brian sat his empty plate on the coffee table, slapped a pillow up against the arm of the chouch and laid down. Helga finished her food and her tea and began looking for her throw blanket to wrap up in. "Cold?" Her husband asked, watching her head for the chair where it was hanging over the back.

"I'm freezing."

He flipped over on his back, stretching his legs out completely down the couch, "I'm a walking furnace if you want to steal some of it."

Helga pulled the blanket from the chair and returned to the sofa, taking him up on his offer of additional warmth by crawling up beside him to snuggle.

Neither left the comfort of the sofa for anything other than water, snacks and re-doses of medicine, and no, she didn't mange to get _anymore_ tea down his throat, no matter how hard she insisted. Between cat naps, they had watched the most day time TV that either one of them had watched in years. It felt like being sick as a kid again.

Soaps, game shows, talk shows, junk food.

"Eleven fifty-seven," Helga said. She had her head laid on the edge of Brian's chest, shoving a cheez-it in her mouth from the small pile that she had piled on his stomach.

Brian never took his eyes away from the Price Is Right playing on the tube, but he frowned in disbelief of her guess, "No. There is no way they cost that much."

"Paper towels are a racket," Helga ate her last cracker, "Refill me." Her husband reached down to the box by the couch and scooped out another small pile and dropped it on his stomach for her, before returning to his own snacking.

"Damn…you were right."

"Told you. _Racket._ "

* * *

 **Thursday.**

Game night rolled around, and while both were still feeling a little on the cruddy side because of their colds, they both knew that getting out to some place other than work would probably be good for them. Laughing and socializing was good for the soul. Or some crap like that.

Brian and Helga were the last ones to arrive, and she told him to go grab her a ginger-ale at the bar before they even sat. "Hey," She robotically announced as the peeled off her jacket and hung it on her chair. "What's our name?"

At that, Harold smiled before singing, "Lets get _quizzical._ "

" _Quizzical!_ " Sid back-up sang beside him.

Once again, hats off to Sid and Harold. The value they brought to group trivia night was _truly_ unmeasurable. Helga often wondered how much brain power they put into coming up with clever names week after week. It had to be an astronomical amount. It was a wonder they had time for anything else.

Brian came back from the bar, setting Helga's ginger-ale and his soda down before prying off his own jacket. Draping on the back of his chair, he took a seat next to her. Without a second thought, Helga removed the paper from her straw, swirled it around in her iced beverage and took a long swing, enjoying the soothing feeling of the carbonation on the back of her scratchy ass throat.

In the meantime, she had no idea she'd become the source of curiosity. Not until she looked back up and saw the entire gang looking at her, half with smiles, half with elevated eyebrows. "What?" Her eyes slightly widened.

Rhonda quietly chuckled, "You two have something to tell us?" She asked, seeming like she was on the verge of excitement.

At first, Helga had no idea what her friend was talking about. What on earth would her and Brian _need_ to tell their entire group of friends? Unless…had Phoebe spilled the beans? She didn't look guilty. In fact, she was the _only_ one that didn't appear the slightest bit interested in what everybody else was suddenly so intrigued by.

Helga was still at a loss until she glanced back down at her ginger-ale fizzing icily in her glass. The dots _finally_ clicked. And then she realized what this was _all_ about. "Dammit! _No!_ " She huffed while giving her friends an annoyed look as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms, "You thirsty A-holes. We've got colds and my throat hurts so calm the flip down." The entire time, Brian was cracking up beside her, in other words, being absolutely no help to the situation.

"I see it hasn't dampened your charm any," Gerald drawled.

"Why does everybody care so much about what I'm doing with my reproductive organs, hmm?"

Sid chuckled, "Um, because you're child-free, newly married and in your thirties now."

"Oh, okay. _Cool_ ," Helga sarcastically replied, rolling her eyes, "Why don't you all bother Arnie and Lila then? They're kid-less and thirty as well."

"Yeah, but they've been married forever." Sid glanced at his other two friends with a smirk, "Also, they're child haters." Arnie responded by tipping his pint in agreement towards him.

Helga turned and looked at Brian who just shrugged, "I've got nothing."

* * *

 **Mid October.**

' _It's happy hour with my co-workers today.'_ Helga had sent Brian a text that morning, having completely forgotten to remind him the night before. It was a few hours before she heard back from him, which wasn't all that unusual. He turned his phone off when on flights so she assumed he had been in the air for awhile.

' _Can't tonight. I'm in Nevada. Probably wont even be landing at home until 5:00 or so.'_

She was surprised to hear about him being so far from home, but she'd never really asked for any more details about his work other than what he'd told her during his tour. Apparently he was jet setting all over the place. _'Nevada huh? That's cool.'_

' _Vegas actually.'_

' _Nice!'_

' _Yep. Mid-week trips to the casino. Welcome to how the other half lives.'_

' _Sounds like it. Well, I guess I'll see you later tonight then.'_

' _Have fun!'_

' _You too!'_

Helga tried her best to be an active part of the conversation that night at happy hour with everybody, but she honestly wasn't in the _most_ socializing of moods. Which honestly made having Brian around _great._ He was a social butterfly for the most part and she could _easily_ hide her own anti-social moods behind that.

It wasn't that she didn't _like_ her work friends—she did—it was just that, there was always a certain amount of facade she had to keep up _because_ they were professional colleagues. Which always made her forever thankful that she had a core group of friends—the ole gang—that she could just be whatever with.

Mostly grouchy.

Even with all that as a plausible excuse for her disconnect that night, she couldn't exactly _deny_ that a lot of it was that she had become so used to spending all of her free time with Brian that it felt odd, not only to be home without him, but to be _out_ without him too. She felt weirdly off kilter, considering how independent she normally was.

The final tipping point for her was when she was attempting to get a second glass of wine at the bar, minding her own damn business, when somebody just _had_ to talk to her. Not just anybody.

A guy.

And she was well _aware_ of how _that_ game worked. "Hey." She heard him say, and she was already rolling her eyes.

"You know what, never mind on that wine," She quickly told the bartender, "Just close out my tab."

The guy standing beside her, clutching a bottle of beer's face scrunched up in reaction to her sudden sourness, " _Damn._ "

"You know, just out of curiosity," She turned and finally glowered at him, "Is there something about a woman ordering a drink alone at a bar that just _screams_ , please come talk to me?"

"Sorry I asked…" He put his hand up in defense and began trudging away, looking deflated.

"Yeah, walk away," She muttered, thinning her eyes as she watched him go. She did _not_ miss having to deal with that crap. Another convenience of always having Brian around. He was a giant barrier against skeeze-balls like that hunting for a good time. The bartender set her receipt down on the glass top, she signed it and went to go gather up her things from the table. "I'm heading out guys."

"What? This early?"

Helga pulled her jacket on and flung her bag over her shoulder, shrugging, "Yeah. I'm kind of tired."

"Suit yourself. See you in the A.M."

When she walked through her front door about fifteen-minutes later, she had expected to see Brian sitting in the living room, or hear him in the kitchen, or playing music in his room. But upon further investigation, she heard the shower on in the bathroom, suggesting to her that he'd just arrived home as well.

The bathroom door was left open, and she couldn't help but peak in, observing his deeply blurred figure through the thick steam coating on the shower door. He was sloshing shampoo out of his hair, completely oblivious to his peeping tom. She figured she probably should let him know of her presence before he noticed her first. Last thing she wanted was to be was creepy.

By default, she was being kind of creepy though. Who watched a man shower? Yeah, maybe in movies when the dude had a banging body but, not your average Joe. Still, she very well could have stood there and watched him take his _entire_ bath, letting her frustrated half get it's sick kicks while the normal half cringed.

Taking her knuckle she rapped it just loud enough against the door frame, watching him snap his head around, swiping the water from his face and eyes. "Hey," His voice was more than a little surprised, but he smiled none the less.

"Hope I didn't scare you. I wasn't _trying_ to," She made sure to emphasize that she wasn't seeking a war of tickles and pinches. Although…it _was_ a sure fire way to get some attention.

"What happened to happy hour?"

Helga shrugged, "I don't know. I'm tired. Rather be home I guess," She rambled.

"Aww, did you miss me?" Brian chuckled, running a handful of body wash over his chest and shoulders.

His wife rolled her eyes and snorted, "No."

"Yeah you did."

"Whatever makes you feel better. Have you eaten?"

"It does make me feel better, and no I haven't."

"How about some carbonara?"

"I'll eat whatever you feed me."

"Poison it is then," She nodded as she began to walk away, hearing him yell…

"As long as it's delicious!"

While not quite poison, she did love a good carbonara because of it's simple deliciousness. It also helped that she usually always had all the ingredients on hand. She brought some water to boil for the pasta and began browning some diced bacon. It was while she was babysitting that that she felt Brian come up behind and wrap his arms around her, the side of his head coming down atop hers. "I'm glad you came home…" He said, and for a second, she thought that, that was it, and they were having a moment, but…"I don't know what I would have eaten." She could feel his smiling. Heck, she could even hear the smirk in his voice.

"Oh, _there_ it is," She chuckled, worming free, turning and looking up at him with a slightly unamused expression that blended into the playful smirk at the corner of her lips. "Apparently you are learning nothing from your cooking lessons."

"I am," He replied with his own playful smile, "But it's true though."

"I'm sure it is."

"I'm glad you're home _and_ I also didn't know what I was going to eat for dinner. They don't have to be mutually exclusive, you know."

"Well, maybe I _am_ tired _and_ I missed you then," She went along, still smirking up at him.

"Wasn't so hard to admit, now was it?"

"Dreadful. As always."

Brian made a show of rolling his eyes, "What a surprise," He commented before leaning down and kissing her.

* * *

 **Halloween Party.**

"Trick or Treat!" Sid held his arms out wide when Brian opened the front door to his house.

The host smiled at Sheena before faux grimacing at his backwards hat wearing friend, "I'd say trick. Get out of here you ruffian! And stop bothering this lovely lady."

They all had a good laugh before Brian motioned them in, taking their coats before making their way to the living area, where Gerald had the college football game going on the tv. "Beer, wine?" He asked the pair.

"Merlot," Sheena answered, knowing Helga would have _all_ the wine needs covered, "Thank you!" She called back as she made her way over to Rhonda, Lila and Patty.

"Yeah, beer. I'll drink anything. And I do mean… _anything._ " He waged his eyebrows before his eye caught a orange flash from out the back of the house, "What is that?!" He turned and looked, seeing Curly, Arnie and Harold standing around a flame. "Dude, you have a fire pit now?!"

"Yeah, I built it a few weekends ago," Brian replied as he walked into the kitchen. Helga had just pulled the last of their spooky appetizers out of the oven. Dead Man's toes. Bacon wrapped cocktail sausages dusted with brown sugar. He ate like a pound of them every year, and his heart hated him for it.

Pulling her mitts off, she took a gulp of her wine and stared at him googling over them, "I know how you are, and you better not sit in here and eat them all. They are for everybody." She pointed her index at him before she rolled back some tin foil on a large serving trey where she'd been keeping her previous batches warm and spatula transferred the hot ones over onto it.

"I would never," He rolled his eyes at her accusation as he popped the cap on a beer and grabbed a glass. "It's preposterous for you to even make the assumption," He cheekily side-eyed her putting the trey on the counter with the other treats as he poured Sheena's wine.

"Mmhm…" She deadpanned him before grabbing her glass and motioning it to him, "Top me off."

"I will if you feed me one toe," He held the wine bottle away.

Helga snorted, "Really?"

"I think it's a fair price. I get meat and you get this liquid gold here." Rolling her eyes, purely for show, she reached over and grabbed one of the cocktail sausages off the of plate and held it up to his mouth where he bit onto it so she could slide the tooth pick out. "See, that wasn't so bad was it?"

"Can I have my drink now?"

"So impatient," Brian chastised as he slowly refilled her nearly empty glass. "Here you go," He handed hers back before picking up the beer and the second glass, "Our guests await." He went to turn but…

"Wait a second," Helga stopped him, "You've got brown sugar on the corner of your mouth." She reached up and began wiping it off with her thumb.

"Got it?"

"Yep."

* * *

"Dude, this is a great fire pit, I don't know why I've never thought about getting one," Harold remarked with a slight slur for about the millionth time that night to anyone who'd listen as he stood around the flames with Sid, Brian and Stinky.

Brian smirked, downing the last of his beer, "They've got a kit at Lowe's. It was like two-hundred bucks. You should pick one up."

"I know…" He replied, taking a slow gulp of his beer.

"The backyard looks great, Brian. I reckon Helga has really had you busy back here, huh?" Stinky complimented. In addition to the fire pit, they'd draped some nice outdoor lighting between the patio cover support beams, and updated the furniture to something other than the two chairs that Helga had.

"You have no idea," He chuckled before turning and dead-eye staring at Sid and saying, "Really, you have no… _idea._ " And winked.

Had to get the legend alive.

"Corn hole!" Gerald shouted and they all turned to see he and Arnie carrying their boards through the back gate

* * *

The night ticked on and the drinks continued to flow, and then a few intense games of corn hole got on the way, one in which Harold threatened to throw Curly over the fence if he lost the round with his ridiculous throwing technique, and then attempted to do so after Curly did just that. It happened every single year after the big fella got to drinking. And, like every other year, when the gang told him he couldn't, he proceeded to stumble around the rest of the night, threatening to beat Curly's ass.

Stinky, also three sheets to the wind, somehow thought it was a good idea to get his bow and arrows from his truck—never mind why exactly he was toting that around in his vehicle to begin with—and start shooting Helga's old patio pillows. Until his wife put a stop to that, and then put him in time out by the fire pit for good measure.

She was going to be a great mother.

At one point, Gerald reemerged from the house with an entire plate of chocolate chip cookies only to be quickly caught by his wife, mid-stuff of one into his mouth.

"Seriously?" She deadpanned him, "You think that's going to help you lose weight?"

Her husband swallowed, "I'm just having a few."

"Gerald, that's an entire plate."

"Man, baby I'm _drunk._ "

"Well, don't complain about how you can't get rid of this," She did the tire impression around her midsection, "In the mirror every night anymore then."

Rhonda disappeared for a little while, presumably to lose more of her crap at other peoples houses, but come to find out she was just asleep on the floor in Brian's playroom. She called it a power party nap, everybody else called it: an-entire-bottle-of-wine-will-do-that-to-you.

They had their annual, stand around and wildly speculate if Arnie and Lila were secretly stoners and why they hated kids and never wanted them. Patty and Sid had a shotgunning beer contest. He lost. And threw up in Helga's rosemary bush next to her herb garden.

Helga and Eugene got into their yearly argument over whether or not she had heeded the email he sent about his latest food intolerance when considering her party menu.

"What is this?" Helga found a hand pinching a tiny, unknown object being thrust into her face, causing her to step back on shaky legs. It was a little after 11:30 and she was pretty white girl wasted by that point. But she was fairly sure it _was_ Eugene, and she did manage to focus her double vision in on the fruit shred clutched between his index and thumb.

"Uh…a shred of….?"

"Pine—"

"—Pineapple!"

"Did you even _read_ my email?"

"I mean…" She shrugged and tossed back the last of that glass as Eugene's brow rose, "…Probably."

" _Probably?_ "

"Not."

"Probably not?"

"…Yes."

"If you had you would of known to omit the pineapple from the carrot cake cupcakes because I'm pretty sure it causes me nighttime heartburn."

Helga chuckled drunkenly, "Yes but…did you die?" She leaned forward a bit and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

He narrowed his eyes back at her and for a solid twenty seconds they got into a 'who could have the narrowed-est eyes' contest.

And then the _real_ fun began.

Cornhole 3000. Basically two people ran back and fourth holding the boards while the others took turns trying to nail the hole, baseball style, with the bean bags like it was a carnival game. Good wholesome drunk fun. Only one black eye ever in the three years since Curly and Stinky invented it.

From there, the night began to wind down with fatigue and intoxication, and in Gerald's case, a gut ache from the pile of baked sweets he'd stuffed down his gullet to the disgusted onlooking of his wife. As far as she was concerned, he _deserved_ it.

By 2:00am, everybody had left. No stragglers left on Helga's couch or floor as had been in previous years. _Yay_ for Uber, and _yay_ for getting older and slightly more responsible. _Slightly._ Or, one could circumvent responsibility and just host the shindig. Something that Brian had come to appreciate once realizing how much of a chore it had been having to make it home after a night of hard libations. Now all he had to do was stumble drunkenly to his bedroom. He might have been drunk, but he was pretty sure Helga was _shallacked_. Much like Rhonda, she too had drank an _entire_ bottle of wine herself.

He made his way into the bedroom, wanting to just fall face first onto the mattress, but having enough wits about him to sit down and at least pry his shoes and pants off first. It was while he was clumsily pulling off his shoe that Helga came stumbling into the bedroom, leaning heavily against the door frame before stumbling for the bathroom.

"Where you going?" Brian asked, finally getting that stubborn shoe off.

His wife stopped and looked from her destination to him, "I uh...I need...to go in _there._ "

"You should just come to bed," Brian suggested instead, patting the mattress. A suggestion that held no other ulterior motive other than just to make sure she got tucked in for the night. But apparently, it was not taken that way...

Because an embarrassed grin broke out across her intoxicated face causing her to look away momentarily and then back at him, "Oh, no—no thank you. I'm sure you're great but...I'm married." She seriously explained to him before continuing her stumble to the bathroom. As drunk as he was, that was when Brian realized just how _hammered_ his wife was.

She didn't even _recognize_ him.

Yet, he found himself getting entirely tickled over the fact that she _thought_ some guy was _propositioning_ her and had shut him down. It was sweet, and adorable. He hoped he would remember to tell her about it later.

* * *

Brian woke up mid-morning, sprawled out in the bed. He felt _terrible._ But he knew he would the night before. He was hungry, thirsty, fairly prominent headache, body felt dirty on the inside. The whole nine yards for drinking too much. When the Lord wouldn't answer his pleas and take him, he blinked a few times and glanced over at Helga's side of the bed. Empty. She'd either gotten up already, or had never made it there. Come to think of it, he couldn't recall her _actually_ coming to bed before he passed out. And it didn't appear she'd been there. The sheets were too... _orderly_. He laid there for a little while longer before deciding to drag his corpse out of the sheets, intending to find out where his wife had ended up.

With the speed of cold molasses, he slugged into the bathroom, intending to take a leak first but being surprised to find...

Helga curled up, asleep on the comforter to their old bed in the bathtub. Peculiar, but not the strangest drunk thing he'd ever seen. He'd once lived in a dorm. Never the less, he knelt down beside the tub and reached in and shook her, "Helga..." His voice was so rough with fatigue and hungoverness.

"Hmm?" She grumbled, but didn't open her eyes.

"Why are you in here?"

"What?"

"Why are you asleep?" He meant to follow that up with 'in the tub' but the deepness of his own voice hurt his head for a moment.

"I'm tired," Helga whined in a murmur, still yet to pry her eyes open.

"You're in the tub." He finally got out, assuming that pointing that out to her would at _least_ prompt even the briefest peek of the eyes, but when it didn't he began having the slight suspicion that Helga Pataki might not be a stranger to sleeping drunk in a bathtub. "How about you come get in bed?"

"No. You can...get in here," She grumbled in return, still haven't moved an inch.

Seeing as he wasn't getting anywhere with trying to get her to move, he decided to temporarily abandon that mission in favor of trying to get something on that painfully empty stomach of his. In the kitchen, he downed an entire Gatorade, a few Tylenol and made the first thing he could think to make. Toast. Minimal effort, kind of bland, but delicious when dying from starvation. He doubted he was going to convince her to get up and eat, but she probably needed to get some fluids in her, so once he had finished with his breakfast, he grabbed another Gatorade, Tylenol and went back to the bathroom, stopping only to grab a pillow from the bed.

"Helga..." He beckoned, opening and sitting the sport drink down on the side of the tub as he stepped in.

"Hmm?"

"I got you some Tylenol and something to drink. You want to roll over for second?"

"Mmhm," She finally agreed, slowly shifting onto her back, laying her head on the pillow that he'd sat down and finally peaking her eyes open a mere sliver. Brian handed her the pills and and watched her down almost half of the gatorade in a single go. She put the bottle back on the edge of the tub before shutting her eyes again. She seemed content to stay there, and he supposed he'd have to be too, because he didn't want to _leave_ her there, and he didn't have the energy to pursued her to go get in bed, nor to carry her there.

So, being left with no other option, he slunk down into a sitting position before reclining back to rest his head on a piece of the pillow beside her.

* * *

They stayed in there for some time, both falling fast asleep until hunger finally woke Helga who began poking at Brian. He figured the best option was to order a pizza, deciding not to summon the energy to move once they heard the door bell ring.

"Why do you like sleeping in the tub?" Brian turned his head towards her, smirking.

Helga tiredly chuckled, "How do you know this wasn't my first time doing this?"

"Because you were too organized."

"I don't know," She shrugged, a little red creeping to her face, "Drunk me thinks its comfortable I guess. In the past I've grabbed a bunch of clothes, but I guess I found the old comforter this year."

That reminded him… "Want to hear something funny?"

Seeing as they were just coming off of a party, in which she got black out drunk, she was skeptical of what he had to say. But naturally she had to ask, even though it probably sounded self absorbed, "Does it involve me?"

Brian chortled, "Of course."

"Then no." She didn't want to hear about anything she may have done. It was bad enough he'd discovered her bathtub bed kink. She wasn't even sure if that qualified as a kink. More like a short in her brain when she drank past a certain point.

"I tried to get you to get in bed last night and you told me you couldn't because you were married."

Helga snorted. She had no recollection of that. But she could only imagine how that conversation could have possibly went. "I guess I thought you were creepy," She teased him.

"Oh no…you told me no thank you, that I was probably great, but you were married and then proceeded to the bathroom to…I guess sleep in here instead."

"What can I say, I'm more polite shit-faced than when I'm sober."

"It was kind of adorable. You didn't recognized me, but managed to remember that you were married."

"My brain works in mysterious ways," She motioned around the tub, "Exhibit A: Tub nest."

"It's a cozy tub nest, I'll give you that," He chuckled right as they heard the doorbell ring. Inhaling, he began extracting himself from the bath, "You want to eat in the living room or have a tub nest pizza par—never mind," He waved her off as she opened her mouth, "Tub nest pizza party it's going to be."

* * *

 **Early November.**

"Can't you give me _some_ hint as to where we are going?" Helga leaned back from the vanity, glimpsing into the closet as she turned off the blow dryer. All she knew was that he had some special date night planned for them, and he seemed real full of himself about.

"I told you, it's a surprise. Just wear something saucy," Was Brian's only cryptic reply.

His wife rolled her eyes, "I don't even know what that means. _Saucy._ " Well, she knew _what_ it meant, but not it's application to wardrobe description.

Brian emerged from the closet, newly dressed in a pair of dress shoes, black slacks, a white button down long sleeve, skinny tie, fedora and suspenders. He was also carrying a short, flowy red dress from the back of the closet. "Here," He held it up, " _Saucy._ "

Helga was beyond her wardrobe at that point, more interested in the jazz master that had just strolled out of the wormhole apparently residing in their closet. "Are we going to a speak-easy?"

"Good guess, but no," He hung the dress on the top of the door frame, "Oh!" He dipped back into the closet before popping back out with Rhonda's fur coat. "This will go really well too."

"I can't wear that out."

"Why? It's not like she'll care. It's been two years."

"That thing is real fur. We live in a college town. I'll probably be attacked by some crazy animal activist."

"Not where we're going."

"Okay, now I'm even _more_ suspicious."

* * *

Brian did manage to convince her to sport the fur coat atop her fiery—eh, _saucy_ —red dress. It was incredibly warm, she'd admit. _Begrudgingly_. If she were already suspicious about what he'd planned before, she got even more so when he pulled into the airport parking lot. "Oh God…is this a work party you're taking me too?" She did see quite a few cars parked.

His smile pulled even wider, "Even better…"

" _No_ ," Helga whined, realizing _why_ they were there.

"Don't worry. We're taking a bigger plane this time."

"That's not any better!"

He waved off her complaints as he exited the car, jogging around to open the door for her. Once in the hanger, Brian led her out back to a much bigger, nice looking small jet. When he opened it up, Helga realized that, while it was still small, it was _incredibly_ nice. Leather captains chairs, a table, a small fridge, stemmed glasses. "Whose is this?" She turned back to Brian as he climbed in behind her, shutting the door.

"A guy named Frank."

"Hm. Not suspicious at all," She chuckled.

"Cool, rich old guy who I've been flying everywhere for…seven…eight years now."

"Was he the guy you went to Vegas with?"

"Yep."

"And he's cool with just…letting you fly his plane to parts unknown to take your wife on a mysterious date involving us being dressed like this?"

"I'm like an adopted grandson to this guy."

Helga walked over and opened the small fridge, seeing a few bottles of very expense bubbly in there. "So…this is how the other half lives," She chortled, turning back to him.

"You want a glass?"

"Are we allowed?"

"Trust me, he doesn't care."

"Sure then."

Brian popped the bottle and poured them both a bit into the available flutes before making his way to the cockpit to get things rolling. Helga kind of wanted to sit in the back, but she also kind of wanted to sit up front with him as well. At the very least, being up front she could see her impending doom should they crash.

She settled in to the seat beside him, getting locked in before nursing her champagne as she observed him playing with a million switches. The jet came to life with a roar, prompting Brian to slide the headphones over his ears. He got them onto the runway, they taxied and hit the air. It was a much better take off experience than in the other plane. Helga assumed it was because this particular plane was bigger.

They'd only been in the air for about ten minutes before he started fiddling with some switches, unbuckled himself and left the cock-pit. And Helga was mortified. Who was driving that thing? He came back a few minutes later with his flute and plopped back in the chair. "Um…is it in cruise control or something?" She hoped, dearly _hoped_ , he wasn't that reckless of a pilot.

"Similar. Auto pilot," He explained, "How's the champagne?"

"Pretty good. Better be for two-hundred bucks a bottle," She commented. It was _really_ good actually. So buttery. "Do you show off by flying all your dates to dinner?"

Brian laughed, "Nah. It's reserved for wives only." Truth be told, he'd never, _ever_ taken another girl on such an extravagant date. This was different though. _She_ was different. _They_ were different.

"Oh, you've had several then?"

"Oh yeah. I'm always on the look out for a future ex-Mrs. Miller."

"Nice line," She smartly smirked at him.

"Jurassic Park actually."

"Good movie." She felt like they were suddenly making small talk, and she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was nerves. Come to think of it, that was the first official 'we're going a date, a romantic date' with one another they'd ever planned. Well… _he_ planned it. Going to happy hours, out to dinner, playful make outs around the house didn't qualify in her opinion, because it didn't have any direction other than test runs she supposed. Hence, the super casual dating vibe their interaction had taken on.

That night was a bonafide date. They both knew why they were there. It was incredibly sweet that he'd gone as all out as he had. He knew how to impress, that was for sure.

* * *

They were in the air for forty-five minutes before he touched them down in another small airport that looked to be in the middle of nowhere. It was night so it was hard to tell. Helga wasn't even sure if they were still in Washington state. She didn't even bother asking either, deciding to embrace the mystery of the entire night. As much as she hated surprises.

There was an Uber drive waiting for them in the parking lot of that airport. They rode for about ten minutes into a smaller, bustling city, very similar in size to their own, but appeared to have a much more active night life that didn't involve intoxicated college kids. The driver dropped them off in front of an old-school looking theater, "Are we seeing a show?" Helga looked up at the sign to see what was playing.

"Nope." He took her hand and lead her down the lit alleyway beside the theater, all the way the end where there was a door with a single musical note engraved on the front. Helga could hear music coming from the inside. Music that blasted out as soon as Brian opened the door. He led them down a series of stairs, the spicy tunes getting louder and louder. The bottom opened up into a spacious bar, dining and dance area, with a live band lit by red and yellow lights.

He'd taken her to a Latin salsa club.

Saucy made sense. Although spice might have been a better word. Helga found herself being led away to a free table where Brian helped her out of her coat before sitting down across from her. "Salsa huh?" She smirked.

"They have the _best_ food here," He assured.

"How did you even _find_ this place?"

"I have a lot of free time between flights."

An older lady came by to take their drink and appetizer orders. Helga's attention kept wandering to the band and the patrons out on the floor. Salsa was certainly a romantic dance style. "Do you ever dance when you come here?"

Brian snorted, "With who? Myself?"

"Billy Idol did it."

"Yeah, well, Billy Idol is much cooler than me."

"Agreed."

"Hey…"

Helga laughed, "Oh come on. You walked head first into that," She then picked up the menu, "What's good here?"

"Everything."

"Well then," She snapped the menu shut and laid it back down, "How about you just order for me then."

"Alright, beef tongue and onions it is then," Helga's face dropped, "I'm kidding. That's disgusting and should not be eaten under any circumstances. I'm partial to the empanadas though."

"Why don't you get us a sampler then?"

"A sampler?"

"Yeah, just order a little bit of everything you like. We'll share." And in incredibly timely fashion, their waitress picked that moment to walk up and ask if they were ready. Brian did as she suggested and ordered four different things that he liked that they could pick off of for the night. Picking is probably the bulk of what she'd be doing. She had a lot of adrenaline coursing through her and the only thing she could figure was it was a combination of, real date, champagne, air travel and energetic hidden restaurant. "You look handsome tonight." A thought that volunteered itself out of her mouth soon after the waitress left. It wasn't weekend jeans, with sunglasses and coffee, but she liked it none-the-less.

The compliment seemed to catch him by surprise because she saw a small blush creep to his cheeks. It suggested that he wasn't used to getting compliments and she found that rather sad, "Thanks," He crossed his arms on the table and leaned in, deciding to take the spot light off of himself by giving her a nice long stare that gave her a bit of a internal shiver, "You look very beautiful yourself."

"This old thing?" She motioned to her dress with a smirk. He chuckled and diverted his eyes over to the band, but Helga continued to focus on him.

"Good thing I found it right?"

She found her mind wandering as she looked him over in the colored lights. How did this guy have such poor luck with women? Most girls would _kill_ for a guy like him. He did all the right things, said all the right things. Was true gentleman in a waste land of flakes. With her it was no secret. She only believed that one truly fell in love once, with a soul mate, and she knew that that had a lot to do with her self sabotage of relationships. But even still, there was no way she would have been able to put of with any of her past boyfriends for longer than she did. He, however, was extremely easy to live with and get along with.

He finally caught her still staring at him out of the corner of his eye, "What?"

She blinked a few times before bashfully smiling, "I'm trying to figure out what's wrong with you," She admitted. That sounded _terrible._

Brian snorted, having no idea what she meant by that, but with her, it could be _anything_ , "Okay?"

"I'm trying to figure out why you failed at dating when you seem to be the perfect guy," She grinned at him, framing her tone in a way that suggested she could be serious or joking.

Brian decided to lean into the mystery with a nonchalant shrug, "Maybe I'm completely atrocious in the sack," He also liked to make her squirm a little.

Helga narrowed her eyes at him, running the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip as she smiled, "Whose going to admit that about themselves."

"A guy who conned his friend into marrying him, maybe?" He casually suggested as he reached for a chip.

"I hardly consider myself having been conned into anything at this point."

"Are you saying you tricked _me_ then?"

Helga laughed, reaching for a chip herself, "Well it was either you or I was going down to the shelter and adopting an…animal." _Cat._ "I think it's a wash on the adoption fees but at least you don't bark at the the doorbell or scratch the furniture, so I'd say I came out ahead."

"I'm potty trained too," Her husband chuckled, "Mostly."

"This is true. You've had zero accidents on the floor. Though I'm still not sure how you occasionally miss the toilet."

"Oh, well sometimes I pee while brushing my teeth."

Helga's face deadpanned, "Really?"

"What? It's man-tasking."

"You can't wait until you're done?"

"I mean..."

"I don't even want to know what led to you deciding to combine the two into one activity on the fly," Helga paused before smirking at him, "Is that what scared them off? Your man-tasking?"

Brian laughed and shrugged, "Maybe. I've been known to hump a leg or two as well." He winked before looking off at the patrons dancing once more.

"Man-tasking and leg humping. I'd boot you too if I wasn't already waist deep in this," She remarked playfully.

Sighing and slightly grinning, her husband re-fixed his eyes on her, "You want the truth?"

"Well… _duh._ "

"I have terrible taste in women," He said.

"Ha.. _ha._ "

"For real. I'm not saying I pick garbage girls or anything...mostly." He laughed, recalling the handful of questionables he'd gone of a few dates with, "Just that I've never been very good at finding ones that share my wants and desires. On a few occasions I've tried to make myself _fit_ what they wanted and it just led to a giant mess. You know that and the dating scene being a damn chore as you were well aware of."

She smiled, "I've never seen you as the type to try to pretend like that," She'd always kind of just assumed he just did his thing without care, "You've been pretty much the same our entire adult life so far."

"Exactly. I don't _try_ with you," He automatically remarked before he could think about how it sounded, "Except for this…" He motioned his hand around the joint, "A date this ostentatious is a first for me, but…what I'm saying is, I don't feel like I have to…be anything other than my normal self, and we're generally going in the same direction. You'd call my bullshit anyway." He smirked, bringing his hand up and rubbing the back of his neck a little nervously.

"Naturally."

The waitress, plus a helper arrived at their table, sitting down the four entrees Brian and ordered for them. They began picking, Helga realizing that she was a little hungrier than previously thought.

Brian waited until she looked like she was done eating before sliding to the edge of the booth, offering her his hand, "Let's go dance. And I don't mean that judgmental neighbor stance of yours either. I know how you are."

Helga's mouth fell a gap, "Well _damn_..." She feigned offense, "Since when do you know how to salsa?"

"I don't. _Well_. But nobody really knows us here so...I'm not worried about it."

"I don't think you would care even if we did know people."

"I wouldn't."

"I know," She muttered with the playful roll of her eyes as she begrudgingly took his hand. Remember that social butterfly aspect of Brian? Yeah, it wasn't without it's fair share of cons, but there they were and there was no way out of it for her. Unless she wanted to be a jerk-face.

He pulled them out onto the floor among the other dancers, pulled the hand he was holding up, while placing his other on her hip, beginning to move them to and fro, prancing his feet in a choppy but timely motion. "The trick is to keep your feet rhythmically moving," He instructed, and she did her best to mimic him. As soon as she got the hang of it, he was spinning her and throwing other things into the routine.

"I thought you said you didn't do this well?" She was starting to feel bamboozled by his hidden talents.

Brian laughed and twirled her front away from him, pulling her back into his body, "Fear not. I wont be tossing you in the air, or sliding you between my legs, I only know the basics."

She snorted as he unwound her back to face him, "That's _one hundred_ percent more than I know, so this is dancing _well_ to me."

"Just follow my lead."

"No wild carding any extra moves, you got it?"

Brian teasingly rolled his eyes, "You're no fun."

While he may have thought—jokingly—that she were no fun, she was _actually_ having _a lot_ of fun dancing with him. More fun than she had ever had on a single date she surmised. Of course the entire night was completely over the top so she had nothing even close to compare it to to begin with, but still, ten for ten. "How's that, huh?" She asked, shimmying to the quick beat, picking up fairly well on his pattern.

He thinned his eyes, smirking at her as if he was equally impressed as he was enamored, "Oh... _saucy._ " He dropped his voice a little as he said it, and for a brief moment, Helga wondered if he'd figured out how much that turned her on.

Real talk. He _had._ When she had told him that there were things that he did and said that were attractive to her, he really started paying attention to himself. He'd also made a conscious effort to stop doing it as much. For the sake of them both.

She chuckled, finding an opportunity to collect herself a bit by changing to subject a bit, "That's the most I've ever heard or used that word in my life," She replied.

He pulled her flush to him, "You're welcome."

"That was rhetorical," She briefly deadpanned him before he twirled her.

* * *

Another thing she learned was that dancing, especially salsa, was incredibly tiresome. Constant movement. And she definitely didn't wear the most comfortable heels that night. See, that's why she hated surprises. Had she'd known what they'd be doing...well she probably would have said no like a jerk-face, _but_ once dragged into it—kicking and screaming, of course—she would have picked a different pair.

Luckily, Brian could see the fatigue starting to set in, and it was getting to be pretty late. Lord knew, going to bed too late could be just as bad as drinking too much the following day. Thank you _thirty._ "You about ready to skedaddle?"

"Yeah, I've danced as much as I'm capable." Brian settled their bill, Helga slipped on her coat and they headed up to the street to wait for their Uber driver by the theater.

It was cold out, but she was so hot she almost didn't want the jacket. She walked over and leaned back against the brick wall, illuminated by the sign bulbs above, attempting to take some of the pressure off of her aching feet, "I had a good time tonight." She told him. Partly because she wanted him to know, and partly because she wanted to lure him to her.

Brian turned away from the street to face her, small smile on his face, "I'm glad."

"Next time I'll have to wear different shoes."

"Oh next time, huh?" He leaned in, propping his palm against the patch of brick near her head, "Mrs. I don't dance."

Her lips upturned into a smile, "Is that our last name now?" It was funny how that was kind of becoming and ongoing joke with them. "I imagine you still have more hot moves to teach me. And the food was delicious so...you know." She shrugged, biting her lip as he came closer.

"I've got moves alright," He breathed in a low voice. His free hand ran under her hair, his thumb brushing across her lip and cheek as his palm rested on the side of her neck. As he was leaning in, he heard the purr of a car and the quick squeal of brakes behind him. He turned away and looked, seeing it to be their driver.

It was always something, and for Helga's part, she getting a little _sick_ of it _always_ being something. Brian gave her once more disappointed smile before he took her hand and they climbed into the back seat of the car for their quiet ride back to the airport.

The entire time she could only focus on how she was about at her _breaking_ point with the sexual tension between them. And the fact that she no longer was finding it weird that she was lusting after some... _attention_ from Brian Miller suggested that break she would.

They loaded into the plane without saying much. He was busy getting the craft ready, so she just sat in her seat and waited, watching him flip switches, grab the headphones and toss his hat back into the lounge area.

And they were off.

Brian pulled back on the steering wheel and the plane began to slowly lift off of the short tarmac, holding continuously while rapidly gaining altitude. Once he was where he wanted to be, he leveled everything out, putting them on course for home before glancing over at Helga, catching her gazing back at him in the glow of the control panel. She had a peculiar expression to her. One that suddenly had him tingling all over, and he could have sworn he saw a flickering twinkle spark across her blue eyes in the dimness. He cast her a warm little smile while reaching his arm out, wordlessly asking for her hand. She accepted the gesture, reaching back and intertwining her slender fingers with his.

He would have been fine with that. They'd had a wonderful night. But that tingling had a crazy feeling pooling in his gut. One that galloped his heart and made his ears burn a little. Maybe it was the air, maybe it was the mood, or that look in her eye. He knew the look, he just wasn't confident that he was reading her right. Before he could spend any further time trying to decipher it, Helga rose from her seat and moved to him, hands coming to grab his face in order to lock him into a hungry kiss while she climbed into his chair to straddle him, pushing his headphones off, and pulling his shirt up out of his pants. Brian's mind went blank, forgetting completely that he was on a plane, and flying it for that matter. She sought more access to his mouth, he eagerly opened up to her, catching her soft tongue and the faintest hint of peppermint, while his hands went sliding up her thighs, and around, swiftly realizing that she were wearing nothing _but_ that dress.

She could feel his surprise, smiling against his mouth in reply. He smirked, kissing her a few more times before leaning forward, prying his face away from hers, feeling her lips creep to his neck and her hands to his pants button as he hurriedly fumbled with the neccisary switches to put the plane into auto pilot mode.

Goodbye friendship. Hello normal marriage.

* * *

 **A/N:** Oh no, I cut it while things were getting spicy. Use your imagination! Don't worry, I'll give you dirty sexy things later on.


	7. This is why I drink

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

 **A/N:** Yes, despicable me for cutting the last installment at the good stuff. Hopefully you guys will enjoy this chapter equally as much.

* * *

 **This is why I drink.  
**

If Helga felt even remotely bad about possibly forcing Brian into taking a step that he wasn't ready to take, or if she were concerned about a fatal bout of awkwardness occurring, she'd had little time to think hard, or even feel guilty about it. And he certainly hadn't come to his senses if there were any to arrive to. In fact, she'd had little time to think about much of _anything_ other than the sex haze that had prevented them from getting any further than his office once off the plane. Thank you _drought._ An office in which she found herself still in that morning, feeling those deep inner coils of hers tighten to a point where they finally snapped, sending a warm wave of pleasure washing over her soul.

"Oh Jes— _mmm,_ " She bit her lip, arching her back while her eyes screwed shut, effectively rendered temporarily brain dead. Brian smirked from down between her legs, watching her flush with the rapid rise and fall of her chest, beaming with great pride. Got her. Licking his lips he began kissing the inside of one of her shaky legs, expecting to move forward until he heard, "Good lord, Brian how did…how are you that amazing at this?" His wife asked, still very out of breath.

With a slight smirk he sat up, pulling his knees up underneath him as he came forward to hover over her still panting form, "Oh, so you want me to reveal my trade secrets, huh?"

Helga chuckled. Yes, call her nosy, but she _was_ curious to know where he'd learned his oral bedroom talents from. No other man she'd ever been with came even _close_ to what he'd just done to her. To say that it had gotten her attention would be the understatement of the year, "I'd like to know how you seemed to know what I wanted before _I_ even did," She took one of her arms and put it behind her head, propping it up a bit as she looked up at him.

He wasn't _super_ eager to talk about the nuts and bolts of things so he cheekily grinned at her, "Maybe I can read your mind."

"If that were true, I'm pretty sure you would've divorced me already," She teased.

"At least I didn't want to divorce you over a fire pit," He jokingly replied back, "Or for looking dapper in a fur coat."

"Ha… _ha._ "

"Well…let's just say… _lots_ of trial and error," Brian said, purposefully adding a slight air of mystery to himself. He didn't make a habit of talking about past lovers with current ones. Partly out of respect, and partly out of...well, they were in the past for a _reason_ _._ Most of them he never wanted to think about again. Yet, he stupidly couldn't stop there and went on with, "I'm probably the most mediocre lay of your entire life. The very least I can offer you is something that I've spent a lot of time and effort perfecting into an art." Like a dweeb.

A braggadocios dweeb. How ever _that_ worked.

Helga wasn't one hundred percent sure if he actually meant the mediocre part or if he was just trying to be humble about himself. Her gut told her a little bit of both. Regardless if _he_ believed it or not, _she_ personally didn't agree with it.

"Mediocre?" She repeated, deciding then and there, and very uncharacteristically of her to boot, to stroke his ego a bit while reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck. " _Please._ The last twelve hours have been anything but mediocre for me."

Leaning forward, he lightly kissed her on the lips, still smiling, "You mean to tell me you _don't_ have sex with pilots while they are flying planes on a regular basis?"

His wife snorted, "Not often, no."

"I'm shocked I tell you, _shocked._ "

At that moment, they both jumped at the sound of one of the small jet planes firing up. Helga more so than Brian, "There's people here?" She panicked in a highly elevated whisper, immediately feeling dumb about whispering.

Her husband smirked, looking away and towards the wall where the noise was coming from before smiling back down at her, "You know airports never shut down right? Even this one."

"Yeah. I guess…" So _maybe_ she'd completely forgotten about such things.

They really needed to get out of there and get home, if only to grab showers and some grub. The only problem at the moment, at least for Brian, was that he could have punched through _steel_ he was so aroused. And he wasn't talking fists either. It would be quite a challenge for him to go _anywhere._ He could see her looking at the noise, thinking they should probably go though. "So, I'm going to have a hard time getting back into my pants right this second. How about we finish what we started and walk of shame ourselves out of here."

Helga turned back to face him, glancing down between them to see his predicament. It brought a chuckle out of her as she re-fixed her eyes on his face, a sultry smile forming on her lips, "We did get a little distracted didn't we?"

" _You_ did."

* * *

A bit later they finally got up to walk-o-shame themselves through a— _hopefully_ —uncrowded airport. While Brian was buttoning up his shirt, he watched Helga pull a pair of underwear out of the pocket of the fur coat and slide them on. He chuckled, "And here I was thinking you ran around commando on dates."

"I'm not _that_ cool," She snickered while shrugging on the coat, choosing not to bother with her dress since they were going straight to the house. "Slipped them off when we got back on the plane," She said, confessing her slight of hand.

"Oh, so you had _planned_ to ambush me," He smirked, becoming a little more interested in how hot he found her in just a coat, and then very disappointed that she buttoned it up. "You sly little fox."

"Um, _okay_ ," She playfully rolled her eyes, a light little blush creeping to her cheeks. She'd just slept with him, several times, over a twelve hour period, and was standing there, blushing over being called a fox. _Comical._ But sometimes it really was the little things, "I didn't plan on doing the whole mile high thing. I literally just lost my nerve until after we hit the air."

"Ironic coming from a person who hates flying."

"I needed a distraction," She winked.

* * *

 **Monday.**

Popped was their perfect little Sunday bubble by the sharp, intrusive prick of a full work week ahead. Helga had a hard time feeling put together enough to wrestle a normal Monday as it was, but throw in a woefully unfocused mind, distracted purely by sex because she wasn't—how did Brian put it—just _remembering it fondly_ anymore, and she was a right mess. Crazy tired yet still simultaneously wound up and just...really not wanting to adult that day.

 _Professional_ adult anyway.

She wanted to stay in bed and sleep and...convince Brian to play hooky with her, yet she couldn't, in good conscience, call out because of there being technically nothing ailing her.

But a day like current really did make her wish she'd pursued a teaching career in a public middle school. Where wheeling in a TV and putting on an educational movie was a perfectly acceptable thing to do if one were having a mind rattling kind of day.

Nope. She'd chosen young adults and as it were she was faced with the prospect of pulling a Snape and telling everybody to, 'turn to page 394' and start reading to themselves. Did the book have a page 394?

Who knows?!

It was a gamble, and she was willing to risk it.

However, her less than clever ways of thwarting her teaching responsibilities in hopes of making the day slide by quicker was all for nothing as she'd forgotten the pre-scheduled mid-year student meetings—Yes, Preston from Gamma Apple Pie, you actually _do_ have to come to class in order to pass it—she had on her plate for the rest of the day. What had she been _thinking_ doing all this on a Monday?!

 _Groan._

Needless to say, when she saw Brian's truck already sitting in front of their house when she arrived home, she couldn't get her car parked _fast_ enough. Haphazardly scooping her things into her arms, she hauled them into the house, shrugging them to the floor with her jacket already halfway off before she was even completely through the door. Amidst this she glanced up to see Brian standing in the foyer, wearing nothing but his boxers and a smile.

"Oh Good," They were on the same page. Helga didn't skip a beat, having kicked off her boots and was steadily disengaging the buttons on her flannel shirt while she made her way to him. When she toed up to kiss him, she took the opportunity to push one of her legs up, which he automatically took, heaving her up to wrap her legs around his waist. "I had the longest day," She said, slinking her arms around his neck.

Brian snorted, "Well someones an eager beaver."

"Oh, so you just _happened_ to be standing in the entryway in nothing but a pair of boxers?" She asked, smirking against his lips.

"Yes?" He tried before outing himself with a giggle, "I would have come out here naked but…I figured you'd probably fling some divorce papers at me or something."

"Probably."

* * *

If one thing was for certain, it was that the air between them was definitely much lighter. Which was a stark change from the knife thick tension from before. Whether or not they noticed it, each had an uncurverable need to smile. The new relationship butterflies. A feeling that Helga would reluctantly admit was actually kind of nice to have again.

Then again, she wasn't even sure if _in a relationship_ was even what they were. It still very much had a, _sleeping with a friend_ , vibe to it. Not that she even knew what that would feel like other than... _this._ She'd never been with a guy she didn't first have some sort of romantic interest in. And yes, she lumped Arnold in that category, despite the fact that they'd spent many years as friends _only_ before dating. She'd spent the bulk of those years loathing the friendship _only_ status to the point where he'd become her _least_ favorite friend.

Did that make her a bad person?

She didn't think so. 'I loved you so much I hated you?' Now that was the song of her people. Regardless, it was still a very foreign feeling for her and...well, she assumed Brian as well. Marriage on paper was one thing, but actually making a go of _everything_ with each other was _all_ new territory. They knew it had to happen in order for their whole set-up to work, but it still felt nutty.

But, she tried not to think about it _too_ , too much, and she had to continue to remind herself that her and Brian's _entire_ situation had zero proclivity.

In other words. They were winging it…

* * *

 **Thursday.**

And winging it quite well, if she were to say so herself.

"So are they running late or what?" Gerald asked aloud, hoping that somebody would be privy to some information on the where-a-bouts of the Millers, though he supposed he could have just asked his wife.

"I just texted him," Stinky chimed in, sitting his phone down on the table top to wait. He barely waited a minute before Brian replied with, "No. Busy. Sorry." The tall slinky man read to the group.

"She's probably got him out laying some pipe in the snow, you know what I mean?" Sid snickered to Harold with his prodding elbow, earning himself a swift hand to the back of his head from his wife, "Ow! I'm just kidding!" He insisted, before comically leaning back into Harold, lowering his voice and saying, "I'm not kidding."

The beefy guy nodded in agreement.

* * *

 **Saturday.**

Winging it so well that their new relationship perks had rapidly turned them into hermits, and their friends, _definitely_ had started taking notice by the weeks end.

Then their bi-weekly game night rolled around and the gang, once again, found themselves waiting around, expecting their two friends to make their arrival, having curiously heard nothing from them in a week.

"Wilikers...should we just start with out them?"

"Maybe they are out seeing other friends behind our backs?" Eugene suggested.

Rhonda rolled her eyes, "That doesn't sound paranoid or anything," She drawled before bringing her cocktail to her lips and pausing, "But probably yeah... _traitors,_ " She concluded with pencil thin eyes.

"Phoebe?" Gerald looked over at his wife, who had just seated herself on one of Arnie and Lila's couches with a plate of finger foods.

"I haven't talked to them either," She replied, but privately—and unbeknownst to her friends—volunteered herself to at least text Helga to see what the heck was going on. One quick ' _Everything okay? Are you coming?'_ text and she began digging into to her hodgepodge of culinary delights. Her friend replied back, ' _No. Meant to text. All_ _good. Just busy tonight. =D'_ One of her dark eyebrows elevated above the rim of her glasses. Two absences now and also...Helga _never_ used emojis. She didn't know what, but _something_ was going on. "You aren't fooling me..." She _thought_ she murmured, but...

"What?"

She looked up to find that several of her friend's attention on her over her peculiar remark. She couldn't exactly _tell them_ what she was suspicious of, so she slowly held up her plate and replied, "Uh...this dip being one hundred percent vegan...I just don't believe it."

" _Amazing,_ right? I'll give you the recipe," Lila gushed with a bright smile.

* * *

A naked Brian walked back into the bathroom, carrying an open bottle of wine and two stemless glasses. "You're right. This is better than going out in that weather," He commented, seeing Helga tossing her phone from the bathtub onto the nearby rug. They had the biggest, bubbliest bath drawn—one that he'd initially been resistant to join in on as he wasn't exactly a _bath_ guy—some quiet music playing, and now a bottle of wine to hole up and ride out what had turned out to be an _incredibly_ snowy week.

"Told you."

"Who were you texting? The gang blowing up your phone?"

"Pheebs," Helga replied, taking a glass from him, "They wanted to know if we were coming tonight."

Brian snickered, stepping into the frothing water and reclining down, "They probably think we're hanging out with other people," He continued his chuckling, taking a sip of his wine, "All jealous and crap."

"I'm waiting for the police to show up for a wellness check."

"Or a hit man," His wife snorted, almost sending wine out of her nose, "If they can't have us, nobody can." He chuckled while reaching out and running his hands through the soapy bubbles. "Did I ever tell you about the time I thought a bath bomb was a toilet bowl cleaner."

"Definitely not," Helga took a sip of wine, "I'm not even sure how—never mind," She waved it off, "Just tell me the story."

"Even better," Brian leaned out of the tub and grabbed his phone off of the counter and began scrolling through his old photos and video to find...the _incident_. "I'll show you..." He motioned her over.

"More Jurassic park lines I see," She teased him as she scooted over to sit between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her to hold the phone in front of them. "When was this?"

"About eight years ago I guess. When I was rooming with Sid and Harold. I'm assuming they were either Sheena's or Patty's but I don't put anything past Sid." Thumbing the play button, Helga found herself watching a video of a bath bomb bubbling up in a toilet, all blue and sparkly, with her husband's voice in the background saying, _'Something has gone horribly wrong. Send help.'_

Helga had to cover her mouth to stop from spitting wine she started laughing so hard. "Oh my God, how did you _not_ know?" She finally managed to get out. "Like... _how?_ "

"Well, it was blue and white..." Brian began mounting his defense.

"Uh huh..."

"Which _is_ universal cleaning product colors."

"Okay, I'll give you that."

"In an unmarked container sitting under the sink."

"Yeah..."

"Before bath bombs became popular."

"Eh...debatable."

Brian started chuckling, "And...I'm a man."

"There we go," She laughed with him.

* * *

 **Tuesday.**

Brian walked into the kitchen that morning, seeing Helga leaning against the counter top, munching on a bowl of cereal _well_ after she should have been on campus. It looked like she'd just thrown an old t-shirt on and called it good enough, but it had his early morning attention. "Are you playing hooky today? He smirked.

She looked up at him walking towards her, "Pre-scheduled day of writing. For me and my students."

"So you're going to spend the day fighting with that crotchety thing you call a computer in there then?" Her husband teased as he leaned in and placed his palms on the counter top on each side of her.

"Ha... _ha._ " Yeah probably. But she could get a least one more year out of that thing, she'd feel like she'd truly gotten her monies worth out of it. And she wasn't a quitter. "I'm actually suppose to be going and grabbing a coffee with a colleague this morning first...and I should _probably_ be getting ready to go."

"Eh...you don't want to do that." He leaned in and kissed the side of her jaw.

Helga smirked, shifting her eyes to stare at the side of his head, "And why not?"

"Because it's cold outside," He removed his hands from the counter and ran them around her waist.

"Good thing I've got a jacket," She taunted back.

"I've got a flight tonight so I wont be home," He warned through kisses, bunching her shirt up in his palms, realizing that she wasn't wearing anything else underneath.

"Which means...you wont be going to work until this afternoon and I'll be gone a couple hours, _tops._ "

Brian quietly chuckled, "Who will feed me breakfast?" He jokingly tried.

Helga reached up and put her hand on his cheek, patting it a couple times before kissing him, "I guess you'll have to scrounge," She smiled against his lips.

"You've left me no choice," Her husband said in a determined tone that left Helga quite suspicious, but before she could question his intentions, he scooped her up and sat her down on the edge of the counter—amidst her fleeting protests—and spread her legs before going down on her.

"Bria— _Mmm_ ," She closed her eyes, reaching back and bracing her hand against one of the cabinets. Yeah...she was going _anywhere._ " _Oh_...I hate you so much."

* * *

 **Wednesday Lunch.**

Well, Phoebe was determined to not be ignored any longer. Even if it meant hounding her best friend into accepting a Wednesday lunch outing at Bistro that was close to campus but neither was fond of. Beggars couldn't be choosers, and Phoebe was just happy that she had managed to coerce her historically cantankerous friend into meeting her at a place she hated.

In a surprise twist, Helga had actually beaten her friend there. Phoebe walked up to the booth, observing her friend lackadaisically staring at the lunch menu, "Hey," She announced her arrival and slid into the opposite side.

"Hello," The blonde drawled, slowing snapping the menu shut and sitting it aside. "Hopefully the salad wont kill me," She said, referencing a bout of flu she'd mysteriously come down with the last time she'd dined there, effectively souring her already Luke warm feelings about the place. Phoebe was effectively persistent, for sure, or else she'd never stepped foot in there again.

"I'm pretty sure that was coincidental," Phoebe rolled her eyes as she shrugged out of her jacket, "You work on a campus. It's a giant petri dish."

"Hm..." Helga considered that plausible explanation for a moment before narrowing her blue eyes, "I remain unconvinced. So...what's been going on?"

"Just gearing up for the thanksgiving."

"Tell me about it. It's a mad dash to the new year at this point."

Phoebe chuckled, "Indeed."

"The twins letting you sleep anymore?" Helga cracked a smirk, noticing that her friend looked decidedly more well rested than in previous weeks.

"For the most part." A bubbly young girl skipped up to the booth, inquiring about orders and such. They sent her on her way with a request of two Caesar salads, hold the flu. At least on Helga's. Phoebe could live as dangerously as she wanted. "You and Brian have managed to fall off the face of the earth." Phoebe remarked.

Helga was no dummy. She knew why her best friend had been blowing up her phone. But she'd also never outgrown the habit of being a little aloof. Even with her best friend. "Eh, you know...like I said it's my busy time of year at school. Brian has had a lot of night flights lately...the weather has sucked and...we've started sleeping together. A lot. _Quite_ a lot actually," She paused for a nano moment, finally realizing just how much time they'd truly been spending in bed as of late. "So there's _that._ "

Phoebe's head tilted, colored completely surprised as her mouth fell open, "You start having sex with your husband and you don't _tell_ me?" She said in an offending tone before halting and shaking her head with a mild grimace, "Oh...that was a _really_ weird sentence."

"For multiple reason," Helga agreed with a nod. That wasn't exactly the reaction she expected. Normally Phoebe was more contained than that.

"You've got to keep me abreast on this type of stuff," Her best friend scolded before a slight tinge of red crossed over her cheeks as she then reluctantly admitted, "This is the most interesting thing going on in my life right now."

Helga drew back a little, a curious surprise washing across her face, "Well I'm _so_ glad my life is entertaining to you."

Phoebe shot back with slanted, if not bored sort of look, "You signed yourself up for something so abnormal...and then you decided to tell me about it."

"Yeah, yeah." She wasn't _wrong._

"So you can't just _cease_ contact."

Helga sighed and leaned completely back in the booth, "Oh come off it...it's not like I've been avoiding you on purpose. I really _have_ just been busy...mostly with Brian. And you know what, I'm not even sorry."

Her friend deadpanned, "I never assume you are."

"Good, because I'm no— _hey_..." Helga abruptly trailed off, eyeballing her best friend as her comment finally registered.

Phoebe popped her eye brows high and shrugged, "A lifetime of friendship," She smugly stated, "I know you. So moving on, when did all of this happen?"

Helga decided to let it slide, knowing that her friend had a point, but honestly, was too lazy at that point to debate her own mannerisms. First world problems. "We went on a date a few weeks back to some...Latin salsa restaurant."

"Oh, where at?"

"I have no idea." When Phoebe gave her an odd look she rolled her eyes, "I have no idea _because_ we flew there. It was actually a lot of fun and...he's a _really_ good dancer."

"I know. I saw him at my wedding."

" _Really?_ " Helga replied, arms crossing in front of her body in puzzlement as she tried to think back to that day. Drawing a complete blank of course, "I don't remember that."

"Oh it was probably because of all the champagne and Arnold angst," Phoebe suggested, recalling how Helga had spent most of the reception riding shotgun with a bottle of bubbly while glaring daggers into the back of her ex-boyfriend's head, who had been, predictably, none-the-wiser of it. So she wasn't surprised that the girl had missed Brian's hidden dance floor talents.

"Hm...yeah." Again...not wrong.

"Sounds like a great date with a happy ending," Phoebe assumed, already seeing Helga's mind getting bogged down in _that_ memory.

The blonde blinked, eyes drifting away from their place of thought and back onto her lunch mate, "I'll say," She began subconsciously smirking, "In the plane...while flying back."

"What?" Phoebe's face scrunched. While she was indeed impressed, she was also worried, "That sounds _incredibly_ dangerous."

Helga tilted her head and nodded, eyebrows rising high as she glanced to the side, "Yeah... _probably_ so but...it literally was the sexiest thing I've ever done in my life." Considering her hatred for flying it should have been absolutely _terrifying_ thing she'd ever done in her life. Moral of the story was: never underestimate the need for sex in the survival pyramid.

"Sounds like it. I mean I have no idea _what_ you do _really_ , but that sounds top ten."

"So, real talk for a second?" Helga leaned forward, signaling to her friend that she had something even more personal to talk about. Phoebe always had the pleasure of hearing about the nitty gritty of her relationships, something she'd spent a lifetime earning. Despite the fact that Helga was normally tight lipped about much of her personal life, she'd actually been dying to tell someone—a fellow gal—about this. "He has a _mouth_ on him, and he _knows_ how to use it."

Phoebe had to think about that for a second, not immediately getting her friends veiled drift, but when it clicked, " _Oh,_ " Her eyebrows shot high with astound, and naturally she found herself confirming with, "Seriously?"

Helga nodded, a slight smirk pulling up her lips, as she prepared herself to admit something she'd never have before, "Best I've ever had." Phoebe smirked, her curled knuckles coming up to bashfully cover her mouth at the thought, prompting a chuckle out of the blonde, "I know right? Brian _freakin'_ Miller."

Phoebe pulled back, running a hand through her hair and adjusting her glasses in a uncomfortable fidgety kind of way, "Tell him to give Gerald some tips. I love my husband but he's a mess in that department." She couldn't believe she just said that.

A snort jumped from Helga. Not from meanness, but from relatableness, "Every other guy I've ever been with has been a mess in that department."

"I suppose that makes me feel better," Phoebe shrugged with a chuckle, still feeling a little hot with unwarranted embarrassment over the content, but shaking it off with a long swig of her ice water. Once she settled down, she peered back at her friend and said, "This is kind of surprising...for you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Just that you've tended to find issue with every man you've ever dated," Phoebe shrugged.

"I wouldn't say ev—"

"—Every. Man. You've _ever._ Dated," Phoebe deadpanned her friend.

Helga shrugged a shoulder, her turn now to feel a little hot from being put under a microscope, "It's still early here," She pointed out and halfheartedly at that. Despite the normal learning curve of a new partner, she and Brian were jiving well. Well enough that thinking about what it could _possibly_ mean kind of scared her.

"I know but, things do appear to be...on the right track I guess. Which is what you want right?" Phoebe wished that she could bolster the courage to point out—maybe even rather aggressively—that maybe, just _maybe_ the reason that she and Brian were doing _so_ well, was because they actually _were_ a good fit. But doing so would probably lead to a mid-life crisis—eh, who was she kidding. Major life re-alignment—of some sort on Helga's part and well...she was the type that had to think it was their idea in order for it to stick anyway.

"Yeah. Totally."

* * *

 **Thanksgiving Day.**

Helga stood, leaning over the vanity finishing up putting on her mascara before she and Brian headed out the door for the day. She had just finished one eye when Brian walked back into the bathroom, presumably to see what she was up to seeing as he'd been dressed and ready in his button down and slacks for at least thirty minutes.

However, instead of asking about her readiness, he walked up behind her, breathing, "Oh, _hello_ ," With a quirked eyebrow before grabbing her hips and thrusting his hips into her rear a few times. And...Helga didn't bat an eye. Nor did she when he asked, "Want to do it real quick?"

"We are literally about to walk out the door to your parent's house," She replied, her attention still on her task.

"...Is that a no?" At that, his wife _finally_ narrowed her eyes at him in the mirror, shooting him an incredulous look. _Men._ Hapless creatures with strange logic, and an apt for trying to squeeze sex in at the most in-opportune times...and she loved them for it.

"How about _hard_ no."

Brian smirked back, "I've got something hard for you," He popped her from behind with his hips once more.

"Yeah, yeah." Helga chuckled as she re-sheathed the mascara wand in the tube and returned it to the drawer. Brian stepped back so she could turn around, taking the opportunity to get a good look at her. She had on a pretty golden yellow dress, nice heels, her hair was nicely curled. He liked it.

He started grinning, warranting a suspicious glance from Helga, and rightfully so. "You're wearing underwear, right?" He teased.

Helga pushed him back, trying her best to glare at him while smiling.

* * *

Brian's parents had a charming little town home on the edge of Hillwood, in the cities more surburbish district. As she was explained, his parents had down sized once they retired and began their dream of traveling the country via RV. When they pulled into the driveway, Helga stared out the windshield at the charming little abode of Terry and Penny Miller—an equally precious sounding couple—now that she thought about it.

She hadn't even met these people and she was already jealous.

They unbuckled, slid out of his truck and while they were walking up the porch steps she looked up at her husband and asked, "Anything I should know about you parents?"

Brian looked down at her, chuckling but shaking his head, "I don't think so," He assured her as he went to open the door. They stepped inside the warm, apple scented home, Brian announcing, "We're here!" With a cheery sparkle in his eyes as he took their coats and hung them on the available hooks.

A older tall gentlemen, who Brian very closely resembled, except with grey-white hair and a matching beard stepped into the foyer with an excited look at the forefront of his face. Helga wasn't going to lie, he was a bit of a silver fox. And now that she was looking at her husband, maybe there was a chance of him glowing up one day and becoming a silver fox too. "Hey guys! Honey! The kids are here!"

Oh, God...he was a _dad._ Of course. Of course Brian would have a _dad._ As if she wasn't already jealous enough. "Long drive over, what can I say." Brian joked, giving his father a handshake. Oh right, he was also a _dad._ At heart anyway. Goofball.

Terry then turned his attention to his new daughter-in-law, smile intensifying, "And this is the young lady you can't seem to shut up about huh?"

Helga smirked, feeling a little blush creep to her cheeks as she glanced up at Brian, "Oh, so you talk about me?"

"No," Brian demurred coolly.

His father waved him off, "Every time he talks to us."

"All good I hope," Helga looked back at the older man, still smirking.

"Nothing but."

"Oh my goodness!" Terry turned to see his wife, a short little woman with whitening hair herself, wearing a brown sweater with a turkey on it skipping down the hallway. "It's so nice to finally meet you!" She immediately pulled Helga into a tight, jovial hug that oozed warmth and love.

"Mom..." Brian tried.

Penny pulled back and glanced up at her son, "Oh, shush," She scolded him in a hilariously mothering tone. One that had Helga chuckling as the older woman moved over and gave her son as big of a hug too. "The turkey is about to come out." She pulled back and motioned for everybody to follow her.

They all walked into the kitchen, Penny going to tend to a side dish as Terry turned back to the pair, "We've got beer in the fridge and Pen just opened up a bottle of wine."

"I'll take a glass of wine," Brian requested.

"Since when are you a wine drinker?" Terry smirked at his son, who thumbed at Helga.

The blonde shrugged with a chuckle, "Guilty I guess. I'll take a glass too." When Terry walked away to grab the drinks, she began observing Penny moving about like a busy little bee getting everything ready. Even though they'd just gotten there, she suddenly felt bad that they were standing around doing nothing, "Is there anything I can help with?"

Penny looked over her shoulder and warmly smiled at the young woman, "Actually, if you and Brian want to start setting the table that would be great," She then looked away, scouting for her husband before saying, "Terry, the bird needs to come out."

"I'm getting it," He assured as he handed the kids their glasses of wine.

Helga took a sip before looking up at her own husband, "I'm assuming you know where the silverware is?"

"I think so," He smirked.

The timing worked out perfectly. By the time they had set the table, Penny had begun bringing out the sides as Terry carved the turkey to a platter for serving. And once that hit the table, everybody began grabbing seats. "Well, I hope everybody is hungry," Brian's mother announced happily. Indeed, they had brought their appetites. Of course it helped that everything looked and smelled. delicious too. Everybody made their plates and began quietly chowing down.

"Brian tells me you teach over at the university," Penny directed at Helga.

The blonde finished chewing, "Yup. English Literature."

"That's wonderful."

"My mom was a 1st grade teacher," Brain explained.

Helga nodded, "Oh, so you taught more well behaved children I see," She joked. A joke that Penny found humorous too, "Were you a teacher as well? Or did Brian get his love of flight from you?" She asked Terry.

Terry shook his head, "No, I was an electrical Engineer for Norvam," He replied, referring to a local Northwestern manufacturing company. "I don't know where the planes came from. We both hate flying," He glanced over at his wife.

"Me too," Helga chuckled and then looked at Brian with a smirk, "Were you rebelling in your youth or something?"

"I guess so. Subconsciously anyway," He reckoned. They all had a good laugh at that before several minutes of silence befell them as everybody really got into stuffing their faces. Brian had been right. His mother was an excellent cook.

"So, I'll tell you what. Pen and I didn't know what to think when this guy called us up telling us he got married," Terry cast his son a grin while chewing.

Penny inhaled, covering her mouth as if she were trying not to laugh before swallowing, "We got a phone call while we were in North Dakota I think and Brian was like, 'Mama I did something'." Helga started chuckling, mostly over the idea that Brian apparently called his mother _mama_ in private. It was precious. And hilarious. And embarrassing judging by the shade of red he was beginning to turn beside her. "And I said, 'What do you _mean_ something?' and he said, 'I got married'."

By that point, Terry had spiraled into an absolute fit of laughter, "And then Penny says, 'Married? What kind of trouble have you gotten into?'" He wiped his eyes, "Mind you I'm trying to drive through the mountains and she's yelling at me to pull over."

"Well, thankfully he _explained_ everything."

Helga looked at Brian, "Did you," She remarked.

"Yeah you know...the whole off and on thing," He nodded. _Ah!_ Their lie. She'd almost forgotten about that.

"Well, when you know you know," She smiled convincingly at him before looking back at both his parents.

"It's true," Penny agreed, "Terry and I only knew each other for three months."

"Wow," Helga replied. Admittedly, that was kind of impressive that they'd stayed together with that type of risky start. "What made you guys pull the trigger?"

Penny looked at her husband, "It just felt right."

"We were bored," Terry corrected the record, smiling like a smart ass at his wife, chuckling when she tutted at him. "What? They both can be true."

"We both had the same dream of the white picket fence and a pile of children in suburbia," Penny explained, reaching to spoon a few more green beans onto her plate.

That sentence perked Helga's eyebrow, and while it was technically none of her business, she couldn't help but want to ask, "So was Brian a handful or did things just not line up with that? He's a handful at home so, I completely get it," She lightened the question with a joke and a genuine little smile.

"Hey..." Brian chortled.

Both of her in-laws laughed, thankfully. "No I got diagnosed with uterine cancer when he was just a year old, and it was advised that everything be removed," Penny explained.

"Oh wow. I'm sorry to hear that."

Penny waved her off. So many years had past she didn't harbor any bitterness about it. Only thankfulness over what she did have, "I'm just thankful that we at least got Brian," And Helga admired that. She could tell that they were both very upbeat people and tried to find the good in every situation. She finally understood where Brian got his eternal optimism.

"Of course now she's itching for grandchildren," Terry called her out.

"Oh don't act like you aren't too," Penny chastised him back. Those two were hilarious. Helga could tell that they were very much the quintessential old couple that bickered with one another none-stop but were still very much in love with each other.

"She was going to ask me to ask you to get a dog," The older man told his son.

Brian scowled, "A dog. Why?"

"So she could at least tell people that we had a grand-dog."

"Oh my Go— _really?_ " Their son rolled his eyes, but still smirking at his mother's shenanigans anyway, " _Mom._ " Helga stayed quite on that one. It was entertaining to watch but she also didn't want to get roped into answering a question she didn't want to.

"Well, it seemed like you didn't really have much going on," Penny earnestly responded, "But apparently you did, because here she is and now so we don't have to worry about a grand-dog anymore."

Brian had to change the subject, and _fast_. "So dad, I need to show you my fire pit."

* * *

 **Later.**

"So when are you guys heading back out again?" Brian asked as he shrugged on his coat and began helping his wife into hers. His parents stood in the foyer, seeing them off as they prepared to go to Helga's parents.

"Saturday. We're meeting up with some friend's in the grand canyon in a few weeks," Terry's face was full of excitement. Helga liked that. They really were living their best life.

"Alright, well you guys have fun and be safe."

"It was great meeting you guys. Lunch was excellent," Helga said.

"Oh I know," Penny pulled her into yet another hug, "I'm so glad he found you. Keep him in line and don't take any lip from him."

" _Mom..._ "

"Shush."

"Alright kiddos. Drive safe. We'll see you soon."

"See you guys!" They said their final goodbyes before leaving the house and hurrying through the ice and snow to the already cranked truck, waving again while backing down the driveway.

They weren't far down the road when Helga pipped up with, "So..."

"I know, they can be a bit much. I'm sorry," Brian immediatly began apologizing but Helga couldn't figure out why.

"Why? They were great. Very sweet. And so very... _very_ enthused about being grandparents..." That had been the only uncomfortable part of the day, honestly.

"I know that had to be incredibly awkward..."

"Must run in the family," Helga teased with a smirk, "I'm kidding. Don't blame them. You're their only child. Besides, it's not like they know our entire marriage is..."

"Not exactly normal?"

"I was going to say based in lies."

"A little bit of an exaggeration don't you think?"

Helga laughed but conceded to his point, correcting with, "How about just one lie then?"

"Better," Brian replied, happy with the correction. His wife gave him a smirk and a slight head shake before turning to gaze out her window as they drove, assuming that was the end of the discussion. But he wasn't done. He was rather curious at that point, "So…since it got brought up, have kids ever been on your radar?"

"Really?" Helga turned back to him.

"Well, it never occurred to me to think of something like this when we were making our list."

"I'm not surprised. I mean you forgot about sex, and you kind of need one for the other."

"You're never going to let that go are you?"

"Of course not," She smartly grinned.

"Figures," He rolled his eyes in a playful manner, "You going to answer my question?"

Helga shrugged, already starting to feel a little flushed over the topic, "At one time I had absolutely zero interest… _but_ having all of our friends kids around over the last few years has made me think...I don't know...that I might _kind of_ want them." She was reluctant to admit that. Not just to him, but to herself. She'd gone from ' _absolutely not'_ , to ' _could take them or leave them'_ to ' _preferable if given the opportunity_ '. It had been one _hell_ of a decade. "What about you?"

"I wouldn't mind a few."

"So…"

"Does that mean down the road…if everything is good, we get _really_ domestic and throw kids into the mix? Great question," Brian wondered aloud a question that she herself probably would have never vocalized, even with her trail away.

"Would you...want to?" Helga replied, lamely punting the question to him as had become habitual for them in their more treacherous conversations. She didn't want to answer him because she wasn't sure that she was all _that_ on board with having children with a guy she was _winging_ things with. Sure, accidents happened and that would be one thing, but she'd made it this far in life without any unplanned spawn, so she was pretty sure she could make it forever.

But he was no better. "Would you?" He wished he had an answer for her too, but truthfully he couldn't really say _yes._..nor could he say _no_.

Brian inhaled before beginning to chuckle slightly. Helga began smirking herself as she stared at him, "What?"

"I've had way too much turkey for a conversation this heavy. Thank you parents," He truthfully replied, hoping to move on to less dense subjects at that point, but he only had himself to blame for it even getting as far as it did.

His wife snorted, "Sorry. Maybe give me the ole' 'my parents are grandchild hungry' heads up next time, huh?"

"I had no idea they'd become so starving," He laughed, "But uh...for what it's worth...I'm open to leaving the door open for further discussion down the road."

"Same."

"Anything I should know about your parents?"

"Hmm, nah. They couldn't care less what I'm up to," Helga nonchalantly said, catching Brian side eying her.

"I find that very—"

"—Don't."

"...Sad"

" _Nope._ It's not. In fact it's _great_. They leave me the hell alone," When Brian still continued to eye her with an unconvinced facial tone, she rolled her eyes and sighed, "Look, you have two perfectly normal parents that love and adore you, so I get that it's hard to understand, but my parents are..." How could she put it nicely? "Lets just say they are best if only seen on holidays, and sometimes even _that's_ too much..." She trailed off for a moment before, "And if you're name is Lucas, you maybe were told that they were dead, which led to a very awkward moment at Cracker Barrel when they were seated next to us for breakfast."

Brian blinked, "...Wow. So _that's_ what happened to Lucas."

"It was doomed from the start. Also, my sister is on her third husband so I'm not exactly excited about having to make small talk with this dude. Jim? Jake? Ah, who the hell knows." When they pulled to the front of the Pataki's town house Helga stomach began to knot with anxiety. She could go in there and deal with those A-holes for a couple of hours, no problem. She was a professional at dealing with her stupid family at that point. What she didn't want, was Brian to be subjected to them. He was too innocent. She'd played that game with Arnold and they'd _always_ managed to embarrass the hell out of her. Of course Arnold always rolled with the punches too. She had no idea how Brian would react, "Well..." Helga exhaled as she stared at the house, "Let's go get this over with."

Brian wanted to tell her to cheer up, but he didn't really have any place in doing so, so he kept his eternal optimist mouth shut. They rang the door bell and it was a minute before Bob ratcheted the thick wooden slab opened, face soured in a position that Helga was sure it had become permanently frozen in sometime in her teens.

"Hey dad," Helga practically had to ground out, because she'd rather not explain to her husband why she preferred to call her parents by their names at that time. It was a discussion for another time.

"We were wondering if you were going to show up," He said before walking away, not even bothering to introduce himself to Brian or even get his name for that matter. But she couldn't say she was surprised.

" _Oh_ -kay."

Helga sneaked a glance at Brian, giving him a _I told you so_ expression. He already looked dumbfounded. Bless his heart. He followed her in, walking through a house that looked like it had been frozen in the year 1995. Old and not a bit of updating had ever taken place. Jesus Christ, was that fake ivy atop those shelves?

She led them into the dining room, where they saw Bob re-seat himself next to Miriam. It sounded as if Olga was in the kitchen still, and she assumed that was also where third husband was too. Luckily no food was on the table yet, or Bob _really_ wouldn't have let their tardiness go. The pair sat down across from her mother and Helga immediately reached for the open bottle of wine and poured her and Brian a heaping glass. She took a couple big gulps before introducing him to her parents.

Bob just sort of stared him down and Brian could tell he wasn't a very personable man. Probably very hard to make good conversation with if he had to guess. Miriam cast him a sloshed smile, "It's nice to finally...meet you." Brian didn't know what cocktail of alcohol was in her cup, but he could tell she'd already had _way_ too much of it. "You know Helga never...she never—"

"Oh baby sister!" Olga gushed as she walked into the room, carrying a whole turkey on a platter, husband three behind her with assorted sides.

"Hey Olga," She greeted, already feeling mentally exhausted. She was a thirty- _freakin'_ -year old woman. She was beyond tired of being referred to as a baby. "This is Brian."

"Nice to meet you," He nodded at her.

Olga tabled the turkey and the carving knife as the sides got sat down. Helga didn't really feel like eating again, especially following up such a good meal with one that wouldn't be nearly as good. Once everybody go served and was eating, her older sister pipped up with, "So tell me about this. You two kind of got married out of the blue."

"Well, you know..." Helga began, mostly pushing her food around her plate, and doing way more drinking than eating, "Things had been off and on and we both hit thirty so...I don't know...shit or get off the pot I guess." Brian side-eyed his wife, having not seen her be so crude about something in awhile. "Figured I'd make a go of it."

Bob chuckled once, "For awhile there, with all the guys you went through I was beginning to think you were either a whore or a closet lesbian."

Brian's mouth almost fell open that something like that would come out of her father's mouth. What was even more alarming to him, was Helga didn't bat a damn eye, she just sardonically snorted, "Cause those are my only options right?"

"I'm just glad it wasn't any of that gay shit."

"And clearly, with support like that I probably would have killed myself had I been," She glanced at Brian and popped her eyebrows in a _what can you do_ way. Backwards asshole.

"So what do you do Billy?"

"Brian," The young man corrected, "I'm a pilot."

"Hmm..." The gruff old man replied, "A respectable career at least. I wish Helga had perused something better than she did."

"Okay, _here_ we go," Helga rolled her eyes, chuckling again. He'd never let it go. _Never._

"What? Everybody knows the only people who teach are those who couldn't hack it in the real world."

"Yep, cool. Thanks _Bob._ "

"My mother was a teacher for twenty-seven years," Brian interjected. Bob didn't make any attempt to take back what he said, he just sat there, chewing and staring at the young man looking more pissed off that he had the audacity to say something back than anything.

"Well," Helga downed her glass of wine, "I guess I'd rather do what I do and be happy than...I don't know...whatever miserable shit you do all day."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh you heard me."

Bob started chuckling, shifting his eyes from his feisty daughter to her husband, "You have no idea what you've signed yourself up for son. You'll be running for the hills like the last one."

For the first time in his life, Brian finally understood where Helga's snarky, and at times, mean-spirited nature stemmed from. It had to be tiresome having to defend ones self from a family like that. He'd been there for thirty minutes and was already exhausted by them. He couldn't imagine growing up with much negative reinforcement.

"What...what was his name again?" Miriam slurred before she leaned over on her arm and...passed out.

"Mom...mom..." Olga began shaking her mother, "Come on..."

Helga leaned back in her chair, watching her sister try to get their mother out of her drunken stupor. She fairly certain her mother hadn't fallen asleep naturally in decades. It was always passing out. From being a drunk. That woman's liver had to be absolutely _pickled_ by that point, "This is why I drink. And surprisingly not more..." She noted, taking a sip from her second glass.

"And at the rate you're going, you're going to end up just like her," Her father growled.

Brian had heard enough, had seen enough, had experienced _enough_ by that point. He calmly put his napkin down on the table and slid back in his chair, "This is ridiculous," Helga snapped her head at him as he looked down at her, grabbing her by the elbow, "Come on, we're out of here."

"Fine by me."

"What? You can't take a little joking?" Bob looked flabbergasted that they didn't want to stay.

"Joking?" Brian drew back in astonishment, "Are you stupid?" Bob's face dropped, "You have to be if you think I'm going to just sit here, and let you insult my wife."

"You've got a set of brass ones talking to me like that son."

Brian stood completely up, posturing himself so that he lorded over the old man. He wasn't intending to be menacing but if it came off that way, all the better. "Oh yeah I do, Mr. Pataki. Have a good one," He tightly smiled at him before ushering he and Helga out of that place.

Once in the truck Helga said, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me, you were right," Brian replied as he began digging for his keys in his pockets, "They're awful. Or at least your dad. Who knows about your mom. She wasn't awake long enough for—"

"—No. Brian. Thank you." She said again and he halted just before he turned the key in the ignition, looking over at her. "Nobody's ever stuck up for me like that."

He reached over and gently grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, nodding, "You're welcome." He then fired up the truck and they headed home.

When they got to the end of the street Helga said, "Sorry you had to see all that dysfunction." She had the fleeting feeling that he was probably going to go home and pack his things and say, _adios_ because of her family. And even though they had a loveless marriage built on a lie and laziness...she kind of liked it.

"I'm not going to weird out on you just because I met your family," Brian turned and gave her a lopsided smile, intercepting the worried crease her brow had taken on, "I mean...my parents are low key demanding grandchildren immediately, which is probably worth you running to the hills about too so..."

Helga snorted, thinking back to the grand-dog thing. "Yeah, but your parents are lovely people at least."

"Why is there so much animosity between you and them?" He finally asked what had been the biggest question on his mind the entire short time they were there.

His wife sighed, propping her elbow on the window sill and leaning her head on her palm, "My parents only wanted one child. Then I accidentally happened and I had the audacity to be _another_ girl and...they were just over the whole parenting thing for a second time," Helga casually began explaining and then shrugging, "I as a child and a teen did everything in my power to irritate the living day lights out of them. Of course Bo—my dad has always hated the fact that I never would take his crap advice on anything too. He's a controlling man. You saw my sister. That's what his advice gets you."

"Three husbands and a blind eye to your parents?"

Helga snorted, "Yeah, exactly."

"Do we have to see them for Christmas?"

"Usually I do, but that's questionable after today." She might actually be officially dead to them now. Yay married life. It was really starting to pay off as of late.

"Fair enough. So guess what we are doing tonight?" Brian suddenly got a beaming smile on his face, one of those types that she immediately became suspicious of. Of course she tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, he hailed from a normal family and so she quickly tried to rack her brain for normal Thanksgiving night activities. The only thing she could think of was to go see a movie, but that sounded to trivial to say aloud.

"I don't know."

"Going to pick out a Christmas tree."

"Like...a real one?"

"Yeah."

Hmm...she'd never had a real tree. At least not that she could remember. Her family kind of half-assed Christmas anyway. "Why tonight? It's not even December yet."

"Miller family tradition. We're going to drive up to the tree farm, chop it down and bring it home." Boy, if she were being honest, that sounded like a lot for a tree. But whatever, he had the normal family experiences, so she'd go along without complaint. "You do have ornaments and Christmas lights right?"

"Uh..." Helga looked around and then away, "No?"

"Grinch."

"I'm a happy Grinch at least."

* * *

 **A/N:** I think this is the first story I've written that the chapters have been somewhat in season with reality. What did you guys think of his parents? I had a lot fun coming up with what I thought his family would be like.


	8. Ho Ho Homicide

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

 **A/N:** First and foremost this chapter gets rated M towards the end, so if you don't want to read sexy times, then skip it. Secondly, I would highly recommend listening to the song, "Teenage Dirtbag" by Wheatus if you want to really appreciate the first part of this chapter. That is all.

* * *

 **Ho Ho Homicide**

"'Cause I'm just a teenage dirt bag baby! Yeah, I'm just a teenage dirt bag baby! Listen to Iron Maiden baby with me!" Brian and Helga both sang along with the radio at the top of their lungs. She started chuckling as she ran her hands up and through her hair, pushing it back, "God, I haven't heard this song since high school," She remarked, feeling like she'd momentarily hopped back in time.

Brian glanced at her with a big grin on his face, taking in all her flannel and boot cut glory, "Do you even listen to music anymore?" He teased.

"Hush. Oh, remember the high pitched part?" She said, suddenly getting excited about it. She literally hadn't heard that song in _over_ a decade, but she could still remember every word. But somehow not the three digit code on the back of her debit card that she used everyday. The human brain was a fantastic organ of mystery.

Her husband rolled his eyes, "Best part."

She smiled wider, "Think you get your voice that high?"

"Psshh...you're on," Brain replied as said best part of song came up.

"I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden baby," They began in the highest pitched voice both of them could muster in order to mimic the singer, "Come with me Friday, don't say maybe. I'm just a teenage dirt bag baby like you..oohhhh."

Brian _immediately_ started coughing, as Helga continued singing her heart out, "Uh...that was rough on the balls."

His wife snorted, "You must have had to really suck them," She teased.

"At least one of them, yeah," He chuckled back. He definitely did not desire to take his voice to that range any time soon. "And you know, as your dad said, they are brass so...it's tricky business."

Helga had half thought that Brian had been joking about driving up into the mountains and chopping down a Christmas tree on Thanksgiving night. Who did that? Who did that to themselves after ingesting near lethal amounts of turkey and baked sweets? Turns out, the merry clan known as the Miller family _actually_ did that. And now that she was also part of the merry clan of Millers, she too was carting her rear end up the mountain for a tree she had absolutely _no_ idea what to do with.

It seemed Grinchy of her, but she really _wasn't._ Mostly _._ Aside from her family who—she wasn't going to waste words on at that moment—she had lived alone for quite awhile, and had never been able to muster the want to do more than throw a fake wreath—that she'd gotten on sale at target—on her front door.

So, needless to say, after a refreshing post lunch nap—food coma—she'd thrown on her trusty flannel, and some boots and they had started their nearly hour long pilgrimage up the mountain to retrieve the Miller Family Christmas Tree.

A few more songs ticked by before Brian reached out and turned the radio volume down, asking, "You want to play a game?"

Helga cast him a curious side glance and smirked, "I guess," She agreed but with a noticeable amount of weariness inflecting her voice.

"What's your favorite number?"

The question immediately made her face furrow in confusion, "How is _that_ a game?"

"It just is."

"I don't have a favorite number."

"What?" Brian took his turn at being dismayed by her response, "How do you not have a favorite number?"

"I...don't know," She chuckled, "I didn't know it was common for people to _have_ favorite numbers."

"Everybody has a favorite number."

"I don't know about that," Helga skeptically replied. She'd never heard of such thing. Outside of like a Vegas gambler who had a 'lucky number.'

" _Everybody._ "

"Well, what's your favorite number then?"

"Five," Brian smugly replied.

Helga sorted at his absurdity, "Why five?"

"Because when I was a kid, I thought high fives were cool," Her husband explained rather cheekily. Looking all high and mighty that he had a favorite number. _Allegedly._

She just rolled her eyes at him, a smirk pulling up the side of her lips, "I think you just made that up," She playfully accused.

"Don't be hateful because you don't have a number," He chided her.

"Okay, smart guy. What's your favorite word?"

Brian smiled widely at her, "Butter."

"Butter?" Helga repeated flatly.

"Yep."

"Your favorite word...is butter?" Oddly enough, it fit him. She didn't even know why she was still questioning him at that point, "Why? Did you get high fived with five sticks of butter or something?"

Her husband started cracking up, "I like how it sounds exactly like what it is."

"Actually...yeah it does," She tilted her head to the side, having really considered his point and...surprisingly agreed.

"I expect you have a favorite word too."

"Two in fact. Together. Very contrary."

"Very... _contrary_?"

Helga shrugged, "Doesn't it flow so great off the tongue? It's elegant," She excitedly said, "And fun to say."

"Sounds like an indie song," He teased.

His wife scoffed before smugly replying, "And butter sounds like a band."

"And butter."

" _And_ butter."

Winding and weaving, up the mountain they went, not encountering much traffic, not encountering one bit. Until they hit a town called Sugarton, and it's old worldly charm, all dressed up for Christmas, with signs to a farm.

They pulled into the make shift parking lot that was a snow covered field and parked among the dozens of other vehicles that were already there at twilight. Past the field she could see trees, beautifully lit with lights next to a small barn that looked like a gift shop. Trees were being bundled and hauled to vehicles, wreaths were being purchases and all sorts of other holiday knick knacks. It very much seemed like a place the Miller's would probably like. Also, apparently lots of other people tree shopped in obscure mountain towns on thanksgiving night.

Who knew.

"So this is the Christmas tree farm," Helga rhetorically asked as she marveled out the windshield. Brian was already climbing out of the truck, literally as if he was a kid on Christmas, ripe with anticipation.

They both grabbed their thick coats out of the back seat seeing as the flurries were starting. Of course. Picturesque town, named Sugarton, Christmas tree farm. It was a living snow globe. Of _course_ the snow would be falling. Scurrying across the field Brian led them through the gate over to the barn, which was indeed, a gift shop of sorts. With coffee too. Hot dog! Also..."A diner?" Helga thumbed towards the cozy looking little establishment taking up the other half of the barn.

"Yep. It's pretty good too." Past this gathering area—which had quite a many people—there were rows and rows of uncut trees running down another field, lit by strings of overhead lights. Helga wasn't even going to lie, it was gorgeous.

"Maybe we'll eat there before we leave?"

Brian nodded with a smile before pointing off to a little coffee stand in front of the tree field, "Want some coffee?"

"Sure do." They acquired two cups, Brian of course, immediately popping the lid on his to drink like the java rebel he was while Helga chose to slowly enjoy hers as the temperature began dropping as rapidly as the sun was. "So what do we do now?" She asked as they began walking away towards the trees.

Her husband chuckled, brows raising up his forehead in amusement, "We go pick out a tree," He replied before nearly burning his tongue off trying to gulp his coffee.

The blonde rolled her eyes. Partly at his answer and partly at his barbaric way of drinking hot liquid. And to think, back when their marriage had been sexless, that little quirk had really turned her on. Eh, who was she kidding, it was still endearing. "Well I've deduced that much, _thank you_. So we just pick one and what? We chop it down ourselves?"

"Nah, they'll do the chopping."

"Thank God," Helga sighed in relief. She didn't no nothing about chopping no tree.

Brian snorted, "Says the girl who dresses like a lumber Jack."

"I'm not going to respond to that."

"She said as she responded to that."

Helga stopped at glared up at him with the thinnest of eyes, her blue orbs getting completely lost behind the black mascara, "I hope you burn your tongue so badly you'll never be able to taste food again," She said before slapping her hand over her mouth and then pushing a laughing Brian away, "Crimeny that was mean! Sorry!"

"I just bring the hate right out in you, don't I?"

"You bring something out," She muttered in her best I'm-aggravated-but-not-really voice as she followed him to the field entrance.

Once inside, Brian looked off down the right side of the field, "How high of ceilings do we have? Nine foot?" Helga shrugged. Ceilings were ceilings to her, so she assumed they were all the same. Unless one had that vaulted thing going on, "It's an old house. Probably nine foot." He speculated aloud, more to himself than to her.

They walked over the rows containing trees at length he thought would be good for their ceiling height, using himself as a rough measurement. As they began strolling the row—which the entire area smelt _amazing_ , by the way—Helga asked, "What's the trick to picking out a good one?"

"Go with you gut."

She chuckled, "I think that only works if you have prior tree picking experience."

"Nah," He waved off her assumption, stopping in front of one particular tree and giving it the once over, "They're like people. You know a good one when you see it."

"What about this one?" She asked about the one he was currently scrutinizing.

Brain smirked at her, "What do you think?"

Helga gave it a good five second stare before shrugging, "Eh..."

"The search continues then."

They roamed the fields for a decent length of time before Helga stumbled across one that finally caught her eye. Which is something she never thought she'd say. Trees were trees. The only thing she'd ever noticed about them was their autumn colors. But in a matter of an hour, she'd suddenly found her self become right persnickety about which tree she would be bringing into her home. The one in front of her _might_ be the golden ticket winner. Perfect height, symmetrical, full branches. It was a good one. "Brian," She beckoned, not sure in what direction he'd wandered off in. But he heard her and regrouped all the way back and up behind her.

"Oh, I like it."

"Me too. I think we should get it. Unless you have something else to show me."

Brian shook his head, "No I think this one is great," He beamed up and down at it, "Alright, well, let me go grab one of them to come chop it down for us."

* * *

A tag, a chop, and one wrap later and the Miller family Christmas tree was ready to be taken home. And once it was securely in the back of Brian's pickup truck, the pair decided to take refuge at the diner, which to Helga's pleasant surprise, was more like a micro barn brewery with a whole assortment of Christmas— _and Thanksgiving_ —inspired beers.

"This whole place is a Hallmark movie, you know that?" Helga teased as they enjoyed a couple drinks while waiting for their food.

Brian snorted, "Hey, it has a brewery now, so lay off."

She chuckled while tossing her eyes, running her index finger over the rim of her glass, "How long have you been coming here?"

Her husband inhaled as he began thinking about the years, "I have _very_ early snap shot memories of coming here. But I think my parents were coming before I was born."

"Jeez, it really is a hardcore tradition isn't it?"

"Up until my parents decided to tour the country."

"Insane," She said, looking around at the swaths of people in and outside, wondering if this place was also the tradition for them as well or if they were newcomers like herself.

Brian snorted, "You are just perplexed by wholesome family fun aren't you?"

His wife shrugged, but a knowing smirk remained affixed to her face, "Well, what can I say," She took a big swig of her beer, "I grew up in a family of...holics. Alcoholic, workaholic...perfection-a-holic? When you have that many self centered people, it leaves little room for much else."

Brian wasn't even going to lie and say that her entire family didn't perplex the hell out of him. It didn't come from a place of unawareness either. He was _well aware_ that his family wasn't how _everybody_ had grown up. He was more amazed that Helga had grown up to be, for the most part, a well adjusted human being _despite_ such dysfunction. He supposed that proved just how much tougher of an individual she was than he'd ever be. "Why do you even go over there still?" That was the most burning question he had. Quite frankly he never wanted to go over there again. He would if she _insisted_ on it, but he wouldn't be putting up with any of Bob's disrespectful malarkey, that was for sure.

"I ask myself that _every_ holiday," Helga chuckled quietly, but Brian could tell that there wasn't much humor behind it. "I guess to remind myself of how much better I am than them. Not in a snotty sort of way or anything. Better off _without_ them I guess would be a _better_ way of saying it. I mean...I have my problems, we all do, but none that I've ever allowed to eat me alive like they have."

"Well..." He leaned forward, crossing his arms over the table, "Far be it from me to ever tell you what to do but...you don't _have_ to spend holidays like that anymore, you know." He then reached out and affectionately ran his fingers over the back of one of her hands.

A small wave of goosebumps run up her arm from his touch. Swallowing, she cast him a small but genuinely warm smile over his consideration, "I know."

* * *

 **Black Friday.  
**

Helga woke up the following morning, curiously alone in her nice, warm bed. Brian never beat her out of bed. That man could _sleep._ Except for when they were sick, which immediately began giving her a pooling feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach. She heard noise coming from the living room and she was simultaneously relieved and concerned. Especially when she heard the front door open and slam twice.

Alright, she had to go see what the heck he was doing. Flipping back the covers, she slid out of her fortress of warmth, tiptoeing over to her dresser to grab a pair of socks for her cold feetsies. She slid them on and went to investigate the commotion, finding her house mate stacking a box on top of another in the corner where their un-decorated tree stood.

"Good morning!" He cheerily said, looking oddly well rested and chipper for him to not be a morning person. Neither of them were morning people. Yet _here_ the were. "There is a coffee and a McGriddle for you on the counter."

Helga tiredly chuckled, "Had to go show face at McDonald's I see. What's with the boxes?" She crossed her arms.

"I went and grabbed some tree decorations from my parent's house."

"You're...borrowing their decorations?"

Brian chortled, "No. Well I mean, some because they don't need them all anymore, but a good chunk of the ornaments are mine," When all he got from her was a tired blinking stare he sighed, "It's been a tradition that my parents give me a new ornament for the tree every year."

" _Ah_ ," Helga nodded before walking to the kitchen counter and getting that coffee, "More wholesome family traditions."

She'd _barely_ taken a sip of said coffee before her husband jovially said, "Now get dressed we have a busy day decorating." Face all full of mirth and crap.

* * *

 **Night.**

Maybe it was dumb for her to assume that he'd only been talking about their tree. And _completely_ dumb to wonder how decorating it would take all day. Considering all his family traditions, she should have known he meant, decorating the _whole_ house, and she literally meant, the _whole_ house. Not that she could be that mad about it. She'd forced him into doing the same exact thing for her yearly Halloween party. It was tasteful, she'd give him that. Divorce would have definitely been unavoidable if he'd shown up with some tacky assortments.

The ice sickle lights he insisted on hanging outside were a bit much for her but, whatever, it was technically _his_ house too at that point. Maybe it would grow on her as everything else had started to.

By night fall, they had a lasagna going, some Sugarton beer they'd brought home, a pile of fresh baked cookies, some Christmas music, and a tree to _finally_ get started on, because Brian had insisted that tree shouldn't be decorated except for at night. "Alright, we go bottom to top with the white lights, and then back down with the blinky ones." Brian instructed. The best method they found was for him to do all the light wrapping while she fed him a continuous string of lights, keeping them de-tangled. Everything else that went on there was a free for all, but it turned out good.

The tree was gorgeous in fact.

By the time they ate and settled down it wasn't too terribly late, and neither totally felt like crawling into bed and calling it a night just yet. Brian rather liked enjoying the warm ambience and smell that the tree added. He was proud of it. It was his first attempt at the level of Christmas that he and his parents would put on until he moved out. Then they started traveling and it really tapered off. He just wished they had a fireplace. That would be premo ambiance with the tree. Helga laid down on the couch pillow, basking in the tree glow herself as her companion began hunting for something to watch. Brian caught her staring at the tree with a slight resting smile on her face. It made him happy to see her so candidly happy.

She'd never had a Christmas tree in her house before, but now that she did, she couldn't imagine not having one every year going forward.

"I think Christmas is starting to grow on me," She shifted her eyes away and to where he sat at the other end of the couch.

Her husband chuckled, "And the Grinch's heart grew three sizes..."

"Ha... _ha._ " Helga leered with a smirk, "Somebody thinks they have jokes."

At that Brian reached out and tickled her socked feet, "Because I do," He cooed, before running his fingers up to get the back of her knee too. He'd pretty quickly figured out all of her most ticklish spots, and he used them for evil on the regular.

She jerked her legs and feet away from from his deadly little fingers, "Tickle my feet again and bad things are going to happen to that baby soft skin of yours," She warned through a playful smile.

Brian was unmoved by her threats. Instead he cleared his throat, and using his good deep voice he began to sing, "You're a mean one, Mrs. Grinch..." As he moved across the couch, closer to her.

"Is that our last name now?" His wife rolled her blue eyes at him.

"You really are a _heel_..." She snorted at that. "You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, Mrs. Gr- _inch_. Why...I wouldn't touch you with a...thirty-nine and half foot pole," He finally came up, hovering completely over her, "Hmm...I'll still touch you with _my_ po-" She pinched his lips shut between her thumb and index, "Divorce papers?" He mumbled through his trapped mouth.

"You betcha." Brian chuckled as she released his lips, but as he began to pull away, intending to get back to their movie watching quest, she caught him by the arm and pulled him back to her, "Oh no, you aren't going anywhere now," She devilishly smirked. God his deep voice was just the bees knees.

* * *

 **Saturday.**

It was a little over three weeks until Christmas and to say Helga was already panicked about what to give to Brian would be an understatement. She'd spent the better part of her afternoon wandering around the mall looking for something that felt right. She'd never had any trouble buying gifts for him in the past—one hundred percent for birthdays—but sticking a vinyl record or a gift card under the tree just didn't seem right. She needed a consultant to discuss it with. An expert.

 _Pheebs._

Reaching into her coat pocket, she whipped out her phone and dialed up her bestfriend, praying that she answered and had some wisdom to share to boot. _"Hello?"_ Phoebe's voice drawled.

"Hey, so I'm at the mall..."

 _"Yeah..."_

"Doing some Christmas shopping..."

" _Uh huh..."_ Phoebe replied sounding _very_ distracted.

"What do you get for husbands?"

A long pause drew out as Phoebe tried to decided if her friend was being serious or not, " _The same thing you would get him regularly?_ "

By that point Helga was pacing in circles, running her hand through her hair, probably looking like a mad person, "I don't know...it just doesn't _feel_ right. Besides, I've always been terrible at shopping for boyfriends. Even Arnold! I'm _way_ out of my league here."

 _"You're over thinking this."_

"Am I?"

 _"Yes."_

"I don't even know how much I'm suppose to go all out here. What if I do too much...or not enough?"

 _"...still over thinking it."_

"Okay, okay fine," Helga let go of a slightly defeated sigh.

 _"Relax, take a deep breath and just enjoy the experience of gift giving. As long as it's thoughtful."_

"Hmm..." Helga stopped her pacing, a light bulb going off in her head, "Pheebs you're a genius."

* * *

Helga tore into her house, a woman on a mission with quite a bit of research and trip booking to do. That computer of hers needed to act right because she didn't have time for any of it's shenanigans either. She was a _little_ irritated that Brian was home, because she didn't _need_ him around to accidentally see what plans she had in store for him. Boy that didn't sound sinister or anything. And of _course_ he was standing at the counter, looking through the mail as she walked in. "We got Harold and Patty's murder mystery party invite," He said as he held it up for her to see. A candy cane that had one half sharpened into a shank with blood dripping from it, "Ho, ho, homicide."

His wife snorted and rolled her eyes, "Where do they come up with this stuff?"

"I'm telling you, he and Sid need their own comedy hour," He chuckled before flipping over the invite, reading, "It's the most wonderful crime of the year. Something sinister stalks the halls of Shufflemore Manor..."

"What are our characters?" She wearily asked, walking up beside him to peak at the invite. This wasn't their first murder mystery rodeo.

"Mr. and Mrs. B.J. Cobbledick."

"Oh, sweet Jesus," Helga sighed, dropping her head into her hand and shaking it.

"He has _really_ out done himself this year..."

* * *

Helga had lucked out. It just happened to be a Saturday that Brian and the fellas went out and did what the hell ever, which meant she would have a few uninterrupted hours to plan out his Christmas present without him accidentally stumbling across it. She tried not to appear eager to usher him out the door, but when she heard his truck crank and drive away she practically ran to her computer.

"Now you better act right you overpriced sack of horse crap, or it's straight to the dumpster with you," She pointed her finger at the screen before immediately running said hand over the top of the monitor, "Just kidding, I love you please don't freeze up tonight."

Phoebe had unwittingly made her realize that the trouble she was having in gift selection, was one hundred percent because she'd been looking in the wrong place. Specifically the _physical_ place, when what he would enjoy more would be an _experience._

A ski experience perhaps?

He'd brought up his desire to hit the slopes far too often for it _not_ to be the _obvious_ choice. Plus it was a gift that said, _hey, we aren't just friends anymore..._

From there she got busy booking a ski trip to the lovely aspen, preferring to go around February but choosing March in order to get the mountain cabin with the killer view. She printed everything out and went and put it in her bag, knowing he'd never stumble upon it there until she could get an envelop and a box.

Helga: 1 Christmas: 0

* * *

 **Wednesday Morning.**

Brian walked out of the local Apple store, toting the box for a brand new iMac in his hands, having taken advantage of a Helga free morning with her being at work and whatnot. Hopefully he'd never have to hear her gripe at that fossil she had been reluctant to replace. Although he'd grown to enjoy hearing the new and inventive swear sentences she could hurl at an inanimate object. Never the less, he was going to replace it _for_ her, because she needed it and he _wanted_ her to have it.

As he was walking to his truck, his eyes caught a glimpse of a boutique jewelry store across the street. It peaked his interest. Not that he _hadn't_ been toying with the idea to begin with, because _he had_. He figured it was too serendipitous for him to ignore at that point. Looking around he finally decided to abandon his previous walk to his vehicle and instead trot over and duck inside. They were fairly busy, as was expected for that time of the year. No matter, he was content with just browsing for the moment, still unsure if he wanted to _actually_ pull the trigger on what he was thinking about doing.

It could blow up in his face. Or make things really weird. Still, he couldn't get the idea _off_ his mind though.

"Anything I can help you with?" Brian was snapped from his thoughts, looking up to see a sharply dressed older gentleman smiling at him.

The younger man returned a toothy smile himself before straightening, "Maybe. So...my wife and I have been married for a few months now and we never did rings or anything." Great, now the guy _probably_ thought he had a mail order bride. Or a shotgun marriage. Or maybe was just a stalker with unrequited affection and no real wife at all.

But the guy just chuckled and asked, "What's she into?"

Awesome, he was at cool. "Well...she would _tell_ you that she's a minimalist and honestly she really _isn't_ into anything flashy, but..." Brian smirked, a twinkle beginning to glimmer in his eye, "I think she would secretly enjoy something elegant that's...a _little_ showy."

"My wife is exactly the same way," The guy nodded, "With that being said, I think you might be interested in some stuff we have over here..."

* * *

So he did do a thing. He pulled a trigger. He spent _a lot_ of money. And now he was absolutely _terrified_. Everything got wrapped but while the computer went snugly under the tree, his hands were too chicken to let his other small box sit on top of it. What if...it just messed up everything? What if she got the wrong idea? He didn't even know what ideas _he_ had anymore. He was going with his gut on _everything_ those days and sometimes it was like reading tea leaves.

Ultimately, he didn't have the courage to leave it there, instead taking it to the closet and hiding it in the pocket of a pair of pants he never wore and he knew she wouldn't accidentally stumble across. Maybe his un-sureness would shore up before the 25th arrived, but he was doubtful at that point.

Later as he was heading out the door for his night flight, he caught her once again swearing profanities that would make a sailor take notes at her computer, knowingly smirking as he leaned against the open door frame. "You've have a real talent, has anybody ever told you that?"

"Yeah, yeah," She chuckled and looked over at him, leaning back in her chair, "Heading out?"

"Yep," He nodded before inhaling, "So, before I forget to mention it...I am going to be gone the week before Christmas."

"What? Why?" Helga scowled.

"Flying a family on vacation."

Helga nodded, surprised at how bummed she suddenly felt about the prospect of not seeing him for several days straight, "Oh...that's cool." That sucked.

"Eh...lovely timing but, somebody's got to do it. I should be back the 24th though."

"Yikes, cutting it close there bucko," She smirked. It wasn't like they had any hardcore plans for Christmas. His parents were out on the road and she'd sworn off her family for the foreseeable future.

"I know," He sighed, appearing kind of down about himself. "Anyway, I'll see you in the morning."

* * *

 **Murder Mystery Night.**

Helga and Brian arrived, dressed to the nines, to Shufflemore Manor aka the Berman residence at the ripe hour of 6:30. "Welcome to an evening of mystery!" Harold announced in a grandious voice as he answered the door.

"Hmm...you're outfit is a mystery good sir," Brian replied back, in character.

The pair walked in behind their host, already seeing most of their friends hanging out in the living room with drinks and horderves. It looked like they were just waiting on the Gammelthorpe's to show, fashionably late _as usual_ for these things, "You guys look sharp," Arnie complimented, he too looking very well put together, compared to his usually eternally casual self. Everybody looked like they were going to a gala.

Brian went and grabbed him and Helga a couple of glasses of wine before rejoining their group and asking, in a sort of quiet voice so not to be heard by Harold, "So, out of curiosity, how bad is everybody else's names? We're the Cobbledicks."

"Mr. and Mrs Jack Goff," Nadine rolled her eyes.

Arnie chuckled, "Ben Dover."

"Doctor Mahboobeh," Sid announced with a wide smile, clearly the _only_ one finding that years names _hilarious_. Leading everybody else to speculate the obvious. He probably had a hand in helping Harold with it. "And my lovely wife Mrs. Mahboo—"

"—Huh uh, _no,_ " Sheena sternly held her index finger up at him.

Stinky sighed, "We're the Titsworths."

Brian and Helga then looked at Phoebe and Gerald, who was tightly clutching his glass of wine, staring down at the floor, rapidly nodding his head like he was a man on the brink, "Well?" Brian beckoned. Phoebe looked too embarrassed to provide any answer, so she just buried herself in her wine glass and let her husband handle it.

"Mr. and Mrs...Tokyo _Sexwhale._.." The pair snorted, realizing that their name wasn't _so_ bad after all. And when everybody else around them started contagiously cracking up too, Gerald huffed, downed his wine and walked towards the kitchen yelling, "Harold! What the _fuck,_ man!? Sexwhale!?"

Harold emerged from the kitchen, where he had been helping Patty finish their meal for the night, "Mr. Sexwhale, you appear winded," Nope he was not breaking character all night, "Perhaps you've come down with the fever? Doctor Mahboobeh!" He beckoned to Sid, "Check this man for fever!"

Right then, the door bell chimed and his face lit up, "Oh, it seems as Mr. and Mrs. Dick Tips have arrived," Harold gleefully said as he made for the door, "Oh, Mrs. Dover, we do have some vegan affair for you tonight," He told Lila as he walked by.

"Ahh!" Gerald held his hands up dramatically and walked away to the bathroom.

"I believe he has hysteria," Sid diagnosed, puffing his chest out and running both his hands over the edges of his mid-century suit.

"Now I thought that was something only the women folk could catch?" Stinky replied, hopping into his character.

"Quite right, Mr. Titsworths. However in rare circumstance, men can contract it too."

* * *

 **Sunday.**

Day one of having the house, the bed, the driveway, _everything_ completely and utterly to herself for five _straight_ days. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't _kind of_ excited about it. As someone who had become very accustomed to living by themselves for several years, there were some things that she missed.

Complete control over the remote. _All_ of the hot water. Hummus and chips as an acceptable dinner when she didn't feel like cooking anything. Like that night. Brian was never _not_ hungry and it was _insane_ to her.

All was well as she was sprawled out in her bed, cramming said hummus and chips into her mouth while she graded midterm papers until she actually had to fall asleep. That was when two things became noticeable to her: Strange sounds and the fact that she hadn't heard a peep from Brian at all.

Like she was p _retty sure_ her house had always made strange creaking and settling noises. Obviously that was just the heat kicking on and crap. She was more concerned about his lack of communication. He didn't blow up her phone on a regular basis or anything, and she didn't _want_ him to either, but they _usually_ texted a little back in forth every single day.

Rolling over she just stared through the dark at her nightstand. Particularly at her phone on top of it.

* * *

 **Monday.**

By that afternoon, she was already feeling herself sliding into a little bit of a funk. All because she was yet to hear a _thing_ from him since he left. She was pissed off that she was even in a funk over it. Pissed off that she cared and...well...mostly upset over the fact that she felt lonely.

She missed him already, okay?

And she _didn't_ like what that meant.

It meant, that she was having the _audacity_ to catch some feels for him, though she tried to reassure herself that it was simply because she was out of a routine that she'd fallen into months prior. She was thirty for crying out loud! Routines were mandatory for survival!

Helga Pataki didn't _catch_ feels. She'd only ever caught feels for one person in her life and he was in bum fudge Egypt—he could be in Egypt, she didn't really know.

Oh yes, she had dated _plenty,_ to test that theory, only for it to be proven _correct._

* * *

 **Tuesday.**

Curmudgeon. Her students were going to _love_ her grading when they got back from break. No, not really, she was going to have to go back and correct the wrath that she took out on those poor kids papers. Except for you Connor, there's no excuse.

She was standing at her kitchen pantry, swearing up an _down_ that she'd bought _plenty_ of oreos for the week, "I specifically bought several packs because they were BOGO..." She muttered before stopping, "How much stress eating have I been doing?"

And the phone rang, and she had never yanked it out of her pocket so quickly and been so relieved to see _anybody_ call her. But especially Brian Miller.

"I was beginning to worry," She answered the phone call all cool, like nothing was wrong, but beaming like an idiot.

 _"I know..."_ He groaned on the other end, _"It's been nonstop. What are you up to?"_

"Trying to find a snack."

He chuckled, _"Is that your dinner tonight?"_

"No," She scoffed, "I had some soup."

 _"That's why you need a snack. Soup is hardly a meal."_

"I beg to differ."

 _"I'm hungry just thinking about it. And I just ate."_

"You're always hungry," Helga chortled, "What did you have for dinner?"

 _"Like nine tacos."_

"I don't know how that's possible."

 _"...I'm a man."_

* * *

 **Wednesday.**

Yes, she was _well aware_ of the pep in her step that she had the following day. She didn't need to be reminded. It was already so frustrating for her. The fact that she was just _beside_ herself over not seeing somebody every single day. Or talking to them every single day. And perhaps that meant...

That she had indeed come down with some dreaded feels. She didn't want feels, it was impossible for her to even _catch_ them to begin with. It did not _fit_ into _any_ of her beliefs about true love and soul mates and...how there _isn't_ life after love in general. Looking at you _Cher._

She supposed it could be that she just felt _super_ comfortable with him. More so than any other man she'd dated. Made sense. They'd only been friends for _twenty years_. Crimeny, where had the time gone?!

That had to be it. She liked comfortable things.

* * *

 **Thursday.**

He goes on a gosh dang work trip for one whole week and she starts questioning her entire existence in the world. Okay, so maybe it wasn't _that_ earth shattering, but she'd literally just spent an entire hour staring at her computer screen, wondering if the concept of her book even made _sense_ anymore. It finally led her into climbing into bed, at an early hour with a defeated exasperated groan.

What if fate _was_ alterable? What if she _was_ capable of finding happiness—not just contentment—with somebody _besides_ Arnold? Could she find happiness with...Brian? No doubt she was having a blast with every facet of their... _thing_ they had going on. He drove her crazy on some days, but weirdly enough they _got_ each other.

She dramatically fell back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling fan, "Why?" She groaned, in a whiny voice.

If the fixture had any response or good advice, it got cut off by her phone ringing. She reached over, saw it was Brian and immediately answered, "Hey you." _Lame._

 _"What's up?"_

"Uh...nothing. How about you?"

 _"Just sitting on a hotel balcony."_

"Oh...that's cool. Everything okay?"

 _"Yeah, just bored is all. Figured I call."_

"Word...where are you even at right now?"

 _"Cabo."_

"Cabo. You're bored in Cabo?"

 _Brian laughed, "As a solo man, uninterested in the night life scene, yes I'm bored. What are you up to?"_

"Oh...about to start the second season of _You,"_ She teased.

 _"I will divorce you, girl."_

" _Ha!_ Oh, you use the _D_ word now?"

 _"In extreme cases. Such as you trying to watch our show behind my back."_

"I'm not. I've wanted to though. I've even thought about ways I could get away with it."

 _"You're something else."_

"Yeah, yeah. No, I'm actually just laying in bed reading a book," She semi-lied.

 _"You're already in bed?"_

"Um... _yeah._ "

 _"It's 7:45."_

"Well, the dark side of having a Netflix buddy is you can't watch hardly _anything_ by yourself. Besides, while you may be in a tropical paradise, it's twenty-four and snowing again here so..."

 _"Aw, I bet you're snug as a bug in a rug."_

* * *

 **Friday Night.**

Helga hadn't been too long sat down at her computer, to hammer out a couple dozen pages of her book. Choosing to press through her inner conflict and just do the thing. Through the quiet tunes she had playing in the background, her _I'm-home-alone-and-notice-everything_ ears thought they heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Scratch that, _know_ they heard that.

She quickly silenced the music and leaned back in her chair, peering out the open room door, feeling that hot inner sweat feeling as she intently listened. There was _definitely_ shuffling. Had she forgotten to lock the door? Had a cat burglar really just _walked_ up into her house?

Slowly, she spun around and got up from the chair, trying to figure out how she could quietly sneak to the bedroom and retrieve her charging phone to call the police. Right as she was inching out into dark hallway, the light flipped on revealing Brian toting his travel bag.

Her brain couldn't register it faster than her reflexes though, and she jumped anyway, cursing aloud to her husband's great amusement. "Really?" He smirked, "Payback I suppose."

"You can't call or text?!" She scolded, hand over her chest in some pointless attempt to calm her out of control heartbeat. Last she heard he wasn't going to be back until the following morning. "I thought somebody was breaking in."

Brian scowled, "I texted you an hour ago."

For a split moment, she felt stupid, seeing as she'd left her phone on her bedside table to charge. But she knew good and well that she'd be able to hear her phone chirp from there. "Did you though?" She turned and squinted her eyes up at him.

"Yeah."

"Or did you forget to hit send?"

"No, I'm pretty sure..." Brian trailed off as he dug his phone from his pants pocket, scrolling to his text, "Dammit...not again."

"Well at least you didn't purposefully try to give me a heart attack," Helga smirked at him.

Brian continued his walk to their bedroom, Helga following and taking a peek at her phone while he kicked off his shoes, "Yes I don't find joy in other's fear. Unlike you," He teased in return. "I'm grabbing a shower," He announced as he headed into the bathroom. Helga nodded before heading back to her writing room and saving everything on the computer for the night. She walked back into the bedroom, hearing the shower running and figuring she was get _ready_ for bed too.

When she walked in she saw Brian, down to his shirt and boxers, throwing all of his bag of travel clothes into the laundry basket, "How did you manage to make it home a whole twelve hours early?" Helga smirked as she walked past him to the vanity, intending to brush her teeth.

"The family I was flying's kids started coming down with colds so they skipped a stop on their trip," Brian explained, pulling his shirt over his head, it too getting tossed into the hamper, "Which was fine by me." He smirked as he walked over to where she was leaning against the sink, "Much to your chagrin? I'm sure you were looking forward to having the bed entirely to yourself one more night," He teased.

Helga chuckled, softly rolling her eyes, "You know what I didn't miss?" She began as she hopped up to sit on the counter so she could be face level with him. Also to lure him into giving her some _attention_ before bed, "Noticing every damn sound at night."

Brian chortled as he leaned in and placed his hands down on either side of her, "So you're admitting that you sleep better with me around? That's very sweet of you."

"I'm saying that I sleep better knowing all I have to do is outrun you in case of an intruder."

"I don't know why I put up with such abuse," Brian shook his head, still grinning the entire time before leaning in and kissing her.

"You love it, and you know it," Her eyes drooped into a half-lidded state as her arms snaked up around his neck. Yeah she'd _kind of_ missed him.

Just a little.

Or _a lot._

"Or I'm desperate," He countered her observation before choosing to get more involved in deepening that kiss they'd started playing with in a effort to get where they both _clearly_ wanted to go. Something Helga was _all_ for—it had been a long and _very_ lonely week after all—until one of his hands slid around her thigh to move them apart, reminding her of the disaster that her legs were beneath her leggings. A result of _sheer_ winter laziness.

 _Crap._

She promptly stopped him by breaking their kiss, "How about a little later?" She said, feeling like a _giant_ jack leg.

Predictably, Brian's eyes shot open in a slurry of confusion, "Wha—why?" He asked.

Helga sighed, feeling her cheeks begin to redden with slight embarrassment over what she was about to tell him, "I _really_ need to shave first."

Brian's only reaction to that was to just blink for a moment before shrugging and saying, "I don't care," And attempting to kiss her again.

She fended him off semi-successfully as he instead went for her neck so she could at least _attempt_ to continue to plead her case. Which wasn't getting any easier since his mouth was feeling _especially_ amazing that night, "No really." That was a poor attempt.

"I don't care."

"We're talking almost a week here." A slightly better attempt.

She heard and felt him chuckle against her skin, "I leave for a few days and you let the winter coat grow in, huh?" The vibration of his lips sent goosebumps all down her body.

But she managed to find room through her heightening desire to really turn red at that point, "I just had a busy, tiresome week." Code for lazy. Seriously, she had had plans to take a nice relaxing bath and get it all back in order that very _night._

Still un-phased, Brian pulled back and sighed, giving her an adoring little look. The ones where his eyes smiled and twinkled, "Do I look like an eighteen year old boy?"

"No."

"Exactly. I'm a grown man. I don't care."

"But I do," Helga whined into the kiss he'd swooped back in for.

Brian finally took his turn to groan in mild exacerbation. He didn't understand _why_ she was being so difficult. Especially since he _really_ didn't care. "You're going to force me to use deep voice." He felt Helga completely freeze up before slowly pushing him back, with an inquiring expression firmly in place on her face.

"You _knew?_ " She eyeballed him as she began turning even more red than she already had been. God how _embarrassing_ that he'd figured that out about her. She didn't think she'd ever made it _that_ obvious.

 _Had she?_

Well...her clothes did do this bizarre thing where they just came right off when his deep voice happened so...maybe he _had_. Ah, never had the Grinch theme song been _so_ sexy.

Her husband shifted his eyes from side to side, a slow forming grin creeping out along his lip line, "Kind of?" When her eyes narrowed into the thinnest little black slits he'd ever seen he decided to fess up to preserve her dwindling sanity, "Or course I've known. I'm more observant than you give me credit for."

"And you've just been using it for evil," Helga shook her head. She was beyond embarrassed and _trying_ to be mad about it, but there was little she could do about him figuring something like that out on his own and then using it to help build the growing connection they had with each other. In other words, how could she be mad about it?

Also she was really, _really_ turned on. So maybe she could find something about it to be grouchy over with a clearer head later. In the meantime, she had a husband that she hadn't seen in a week and was dying to get dicked down by, but was fighting him at every turn over some wayward hair.

Truthfully it wasn't _that_ bad, but she was self conscious about _anybody_ seeing her outside of her best. _Even_ him.

Brian leaned in and rested his forehead against hers, smirking, "Is it evil if you like it though?" He asked in a lower voice.

Helga snorted, "See, you're doing it now _. Sneakily_ might I add."

"Only because you like it. _And_ you're having a complex over some hair," He leaned in and kissed her again, "You're prickly at best and again, I repeat: I. Don't. Care," He emphasized between each touch of their lips.

She finally just gave up...gave in... _whichever_ , "You've been warned." Chuckling at her defeat, he scooped her up off of the vanity and began carrying her back to their bed, "Mmm...turn the shower off. I'm not trying to re-mortgage the house to pay a water bill here."

"Yes, queen," He threw her on the bed before going back and twisting the water off. Coming back out he saw her on her knees, pulling her shirt up over her head. Smirking, he skipped back over to the bed, yanking his boxers off before crawling across on his knees and coming up in front of her, aiding her in the shirt removal, "Such haste. I think somebody _did_ miss me," He breathlessly teased as he came in to kiss her.

" _Please_ ," She thinned her eyes as she wound her arms around his neck, "I've gone _months_. A week is nothing."

"You're a terrible liar," He chuckled as he brought his hands down to the back of her thighs, pulling her forward so that she she fell backwards, "But you keep telling yourself that, sweet cheeks," He grinned over top of her before kissing her long and hard.

Finally pulling back for some air, he moved his attention to her chest, her stomach and was intending to go further south until she fisted a handful of his hair, breathing, "No..." As she dragged him right back to her mouth. Girl wanted what she wanted he supposed, though the more likely culprit was her weirdness over some prickly legs. He managed to drag himself away from her mouth once more to peel off those pesky leggings. "Sweet cheeks huh?" She pushed up on her elbows, as he threw her pants to the floor, "Full of zingers tonight aren't we?"

"You're about to be full of something else." Brian came back over her, dropping his head to her forehead, smirking as he ran his hand up between her legs, his fingers expertly finding there way up inside her, massaging away to her _absolute_ delight. She was dripping. "Oh, somebody _definitely_ missed me." He pulled his hand away, bringing it up and licking his fingers one at a time while never breaking eye contact with her.

God, he could be _beyond_ sexy at times. With a sly little smirk of her own, she pushed him onto his back, coming to straddle his waist while peering over him, "Didn't get enough to eat tonight?"

"Starving," He stared up at her as she began to grind against him, just enough to drive him crazy.

She leaned forward and captured his lips, lingering on them before saying, "Guess there's always breakfast."

"Or midnight snacks," He smirked, dropping his eyelids low as he said it. It gave her the shivers when he got that hazy look in his eyes.

"Clever boy." She kissed him once more before repositioning herself so that she could join them together. Brian let out a relieved groan when her warmth came down on him. Her palm came to rest on his chest as she started rocking against him, the two instantly creating a rhythm they'd figured out weeks ago.

He loved how playful she could be. He loved how assertive she could be at the same time. It could work. They could work, he thought. They _did_ work. "I am.. _.mmm._..so close..." The way she moved was just out of this world good to him. His hand wandered between her legs, thumb coming down to circle in on her nerve bundle, "Right— _fuck_ ," She screwed her eyes shut as she began moving a little faster on him. Which _completely_ did him in. "I'm coming," Brian huffed, unable to hold himself any longer, thankful that he felt her shutter around him with her own orgasm in the wake of his. Panting, Helga leaned forward, resting her weight on him for a solid minute, sharing tender little kisses before she finally moved beside him. They laid there, basking in the spent afterglow before Brian said, "Good thing I didn't take that shower."

Helga snorted.

* * *

 **Christmas Morning.**

Christmas, Christmas time was here. Time for joy and time for cheer. However the song went. Helga and Brian slept in, as usual. They left all that getting up at the crack of dawn to their friends with kids. They happily woke up at the decent hour of 9:30 to a fresh coat of snow outside, with more beginning to fall, "What do you feel like eating this morning?" Helga asked as she slinked out of the covers.

Her husband yawned, "What do you feel like feeding me?"

"I'm kind of in a baked oatmeal mood. Say...chocolate peanut butter ?"

"Sounds delicious," He smiled as he too began to slowly fall out of bed, following her to the bathroom for teeth and face washing. She was much faster at all that than he. He supposed it was because she was an expert at making it out the door in the nick of time in the morning. Once she wandered off into the kitchen, he finished wiping his face and tiptoed into their closet, hunting for the small box he had hidden away weeks ago. He grabbed it from the pants pocket and looked at it, turning it over in his hands while still trying to decide if it was the right time.

* * *

 **A/N:** THERE! They had their sexy time okay!? My goodness. So, Helga's catching some feels, perhaps Brian is too? Is he going to chicken out or will he give her the ring he bought? Mr. Tokyo Sexwhale says stay tuned!


	9. Don't lump me in with all of those loser

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

 **A/N:** Surprise! I'm back rather quickly! Hope everybody enjoyed the last chapter. This one is a _bit_ longer, but I think it's got some good stuff. It does get 'M' again towards the middle so...do with that what you will. Honestly, I only have one more 'M' rated chapter in the works (the next one) and then they're _done_ , they've served their purpose plot wise, and we'll be back to strictly 'T'. I've always viewed my strength as being a more Tarantino style writer anyway, in that, I like large chunks of flowy dialog and, I'd rather spend my time writing witty conversations.

* * *

 **Don't lump me in with all of those losers.**

Brian gave the small box one more fleeting glance before deciding to stick it in his pajama pocket. He didn't have any plans to toss it under the tree real quick or anything, but, maybe he'd give it to her after she opened up her other gifts. Yes, _gifts_ plural. He'd gotten her a few other little small things. Honestly he could have gone nuts buying her stuff if he'd let himself, and he didn't want to make things weird or anything. Not that misreading a situation and giving her an official ring set might not make things _horribly_ weird, or anything.

Not that things weren't getting weird anyway, but it was unlike him. He was a thoughtful guy, but over gifting had never been a problem for him. Things were starting to feel a little different though. He was noticing it more and more. Hence, _rings_.

When he walked into the kitchen, he found the oven pre-heating while Helga stirred a bowl of ingredients together before dumping it into a greased baking dish. He intended to get coffee started for them, but she'd taken care of that too. Trying to feel a least a little useful, he grabbed their coffee mugs and poured them each a cup before handing hers off to her and taking a seat at the bar.

"Snow's suppose to stop by the afternoon. Maybe we can make a fire tonight," Brian suggested as he looked off towards the back of the house, seeing the snow fluttering down to sit on it's brethren. "My mom has this killer hot chocolate recipe, I figure it might be kind of fun to sit outside later and drink it."

Helga warmly smirked as she slid the bake dish into the oven, "You're wearing me out with these traditions," She teased before turning, grabbing her coffee, and proceeding to lean into the bar to drink it.

Her husband twisted back around and grinned out her, "I just made that one up."

"Your mom's hot chocolate too?"

"No that's real. And delicious," He made sure he emphasized it's greatness to anybody who dared comment on the greatness of inferior hot cocoa, "But, you and I can have our first annual Christmas night, hot chocolate by the fire," He took a few sips of his coffee before suggesting, "You can add some traditions too you know."

"I think you have it pretty well covered," She snorted, "That's not me being a jerk either. I just really don't have any. Besides go argue with my family," She absently waved, "But that's _hardly_ a tradition. More of a sport really," She tried to joke.

"What did you normally do on Christmas before going to debate club?" He grinned smugly at his clever reference to her family.

"Eh, slept in, make breakfast, watch the parade, take a relaxing bath, go argue with my parents, probably watch a move and then maybe go to dinner at Phoebe and Gerald's."

"Wow..." Brian replied, making sure that he didn't use his lower register that he normally would. Helga thinner her eyes in suspicion at him, trying to decide if he'd done it on purpose or not. "That sounds..."

"Ugh, right?" She filled in what she was sure he was about to say, "That's why I'm leaving it to you for now."

"Oh, it's not that hard," Brian retorted, completely unconvinced, "We have loads of little micro traditions with each other as it is."

At that, Helga's brown crumpled into confusion. She couldn't think of a single thing, but she was curious as to what he had to say none the less, "Like...?"

"Like how I call you Mrs. Something-Another and you reply back with 'is that our last name now'?" He said, trying to mimic her voice, "Our bath bomb Fridays. Rock, paper, scissors when making important decisions. Or how you try to feed me hot tea and I pour it out while you aren't looking."

Helga nearly spit coffee, putting her cup down and wiping her mouth, "I know you pour it out."

"Then why do you keep giving it to me?" Brian returned in laughter. Plot twist.

"Because it's _funny_ to me," She chuckled. She'd found it rather cute that he tried not to hurt her feelings about it. "And I disagree, none of those are traditions. They're... _quirks_ at best."

"Quirks we'll probably still be doing with each other in twenty years," He sat back, again looking rather smug as he took down the remainder of his coffee. "Therefore _traditions._ "

"You think so?"

"I'm going to be dumping a lot of tea. That's all I'm saying," He assured before grinning a little mischievously at another thought that began running across his mind, "You know what else is a tradition?"

"What?" Helga's eyebrows raised high as she set her cup back down.

Brian sat up straight, and sang in his deeper tone, "My sexy voice turning you into the ni—"

"—No," She grabbed her coffee, turning and walking away from him, "Unless you want burnt oatmeal."

Her husband started laughing, "Not particularly. Or maybe it'll be a tradition," He casually shrugged, "Burnt oatmeal and Christmas morning sex."

"Pass," She turned back around and glanced curiously at him, "Quick question though: What were you _about_ to say before I cut you off?"

"The Nile," He grinned at her annoyed eye roll, "Sid memed it in our group chat."

Helga could only shake her head. She wasn't surprised in the least, "You know he really needs to be stopped. For the good of humanity."

"How much longer does that have?" Brian pointed to the oven, feeling his stomach grumble, especially now that he had a cup of coffee in there. It just exacerbated the hunger pangs.

"About fifteen minutes."

"I guess I'll take another cup."

Helga chuckled as she reached over and took his mug, "Don't act so disappointed about it."

"I'm hungry," He explained, "That soup last night didn't hold me."

His wife turned back around and stared at him as she reached for the carafe, "How?"

"Um...it's soup."

"It was beef _stew,"_ She rolled her eyes, "What about that isn't filling enough for you? It's pretty much _all_ meat and potatoes!"

"I don't know I'm just hungry," Brian started laughing, "And you wont go fool around with me so now I have to sit here and _think_ about my growling stomach."

Helga walked back over, a humored grin resting on her face as she sat his mug back down in front him, freshly topped off, "After we eat, you can serenade me _all_ you want, but this oatmeal is coming out of this oven _perfectly_ browned, _bucko._ "

Brian brought his fresh cup to his lips and took a sip as he sat back in the chair and absently tucked his hand into his pajama pocket, hand colliding with his surprise box, nearly making his heart skip a beat. Amongst the playful banter, he'd momentarily forgotten it was in there. He'd never thanked his lucky stars so hard over a woman choosing not take him up on the offer of messing around. For she would have _definitely_ found his trinket. "It's fine," He coolly waved her off, "I'm kind of ready to see what's in that box for me anyway," He nodded towards the tree. Helga smirked at him and he caught what he thought was a twinkle of excitement in them, which excited him even more, "I'm trying to figure out what I want that is _exactly_ that size."

"Maybe...it's air?" She slyly suggested, leaning back into the bar, "You'd want that right?"

"No, I think I _need_ that."

"A win-win then." Brian spun around and hopped off of his chair and made for the living room, grabbing the remote and proceeding to flip through channels rapidly, "What are you hunting for?" Helga leaned out the kitchen with an eyebrow popped in curiosity.

"You'll see..." He kept flipping until finally...

"The yule log channel?" His wife flatly replied when she saw a never ending loop of a log burning fireplace pop up on the TV screen.

"What?" Brian turned around, a big grin on his face, "It's great ambience!" He declared before sitting down on the couch to finish his second cup of coffee while he waited on breakfast. "You know as old as this house, I'm surprised it doesn't have a fireplace."

Helga walked up behind the couch and halfway sat on the back, "I think it did, but one of the previous owners had it removed and filled in. At least I think that's what my realtor said," She recalled with a haphazardly shrug. That seemed forever ago, and honestly she only cared that it had been in her price range and had that large bath tub.

"That's a shame," He remarked. Helga finished up her coffee before wandering back into the kitchen, intending to maybe fetch a second half-cup herself, but a quick peak at their breakfast told her that it was done. Thank you quick-ish oats.

Make them a couple bowls she slid his up onto the his spot at the bar and beckoned, "Drag your famished ass back in here if you want to live." Brian didn't need to be told twice, hoping off the couch and skipping to his seat at the bar and practically shoving his face into the bowl.

"This is _really_ good," He told her, coming up for air as he swallowed, "Really good. It's not super sweet at all."

"I know," She nodded in agreement, "I love it."

"Why haven't you made it before?" He asked, thumbing his spoon down to wipe his face before clarifying with, "Not that you've fed me anything bad..." He didn't want her thinking he was insulting her culinary talents, especially considering they far exceeded anything he was capable of doing. Even if she wasn't fairly good a cooking, he would still have been happy as a clam at being fed _something_ every morning. But peanut butter and chocolate oatmeal that was filling _and_ didn't leave one feeling like they had a sugar rush? She was singing the song of his people.

Helga waved him off as she swallowed her current bite, "It was like _all_ I ate every morning for the entire month of June and I got _really_ burned out of it for a hot minute."

Brian had a second, and a third bowl and when he finally felt like a tick about to explode, he wandered to the couch and collapsed onto it with a heavy sigh. His wife joined him a few minutes later, getting a kick out of how miserably full he looked, "I shouldn't have done a third bowl..." He groaned.

"You think?"

"It was too good."

Helga chuckled as she walked over to the tree, "Moderation is the spice of life."

"I'm pretty sure its variety," Brian corrected.

"Quiet you," She replied as she picked up the shoe box sized gift she had for him, turning and tossing it into his lap as she sat down on the couch, "Open it, Mr. _Can't wait for anything_ ," She instructed as she propped turned sideways and propped her elbow up on the back of the sofa.

Brian grinned at her before sitting up and prying his index finger under the side fold in the wrapping paper and began wiggling it open enough to tear a large sheet of it off to reveal. "Nike air!" He chortled seeing the giant swoosh.

"Only the best name brand air for you."

He pushed the lid off, eyes immediately falling upon a second, smaller Christmas themed tin box with a ribbon wrapped around it, "Really?" He deadpanned her with a playful grin spreading across his face. When Helga started laughing he asked, "Is there another one in this one?"

"Maybe."

Looking back at the tin, he inhaled with a big smile and slipped the ribbon off before lifting the lid and seeing a couple pieces of paper, stacked together and folded in half. He wanted to make another joke about it, but at that point, he was more curious than _ever_ about what it could possibly be. So silently, and the the nervous wait of Helga, he pulled the paper out, unfolded it and began reading. His companion intently watched, seeing his eyebrows rice with the widening of his eyes, "Holy smokes..." He commented, sounding very caught of guard. He _was._ It was a _fantastic_ gift. "You booked me a trip to aspen?" He turned at stared at her, a smile already pulling his lips upward.

"Well, you know...you can only mention wanting to hit the slopes so much..." She coolly said, though she felt herself getting a little warm. She hated gift giving. She was always so nervous about whether they would like it or not.

"This is amazing," He said, looking back at the paper, "Thank you!"

"You're welcome. Wait to you see the house we're staying in."

"I...can't wait, judging by the way it looks on the outside," He put the paper back in the tin, laid it next to him on the couch before hopping up and going to the tree, "That's a hard act to follow, but I think you'll find humor in what I got you." He said, picking up one of the small thin gifts on top of his big and tossing it to her, before moving the other two in front of where she sat. "These go together." He pointed at them as he resumed his seat.

Helga removed the wrapping paper from the first, very impressed by the job he did. Or at least she assumed he wrapped them himself. Maybe he got somebody else to do it. She chuckled when her eyes read the title of the book in her hands, "The funniest, totally wrong test answers."

"I figured you might get a kick out of it," He smirked.

"Does it have a submission form in it?" She jokingly began flipping through the book, "Because I've got a list of my own," Chuckling she sat the book down and glanced at him, "Thank you. I'm sure I will enjoy reading it."

Brian nodded as she sat forward and began looking at the bigger box, "I think you'll get a kick out of that one too."

"Great..." She eyeballed him with a faint smile before finding the corner and peeling back a large patch of wrapping paper and snorting at the contents beneath, "You got me a new iMac."

"Yep," Brian beamed, "You're officially putting the other one out to pasture."

Helga herself was smiling nearly ear-to-ear. But she had to hand it to him, he was sneaky...and thoughtful. "I mean...if you _insist_ ," She teasingly groaned as she reached for the final box and tore the paper from that, "A new printer too. Hot dog."

"You have nothing to complain about now."

"Oh no, whatever will I swear profusely about," She chuckled, feigning disappointment. Taking one last glance at her new toys she turned, seeing him looking proud of himself and decided to scoot over towards him. She came up and kissed him deeply before muttering, "Thank you." With a smile.

Brian smiled back against her mouth, breathing, "No, thank _you,"_ He said as one hand slipped up by her neck, and into her hair and the other coming up to her waist, dragging her closer to him.

As she was moving across his body, her knee bumped into the box in his pocket. It caught her attention, enough for her to pull away from him and look down between them, "What's in your pocket?" She could have sworn that she felt him tense up a bit, his hand coming to rest over his pocket, not urgently, but a little less that casual in her opinion.

"Uh..." He began, a nervous spurt of laughing coming up his throat. How had he forgotten, _again_ that he had that in there? He couldn't just say nothing. That'd be even more suspicious. Jeez, he wasn't ready for that. But it looked like it was happening whether he was ready or not. "It's...it's ano—"

 _Knock, knock._

They both paused before looking over to the front door foyer with matching scowls before glancing back at one another, "Who the _hell_ is knocking on the door on Christmas morning?" Helga asked, moving off of him.

Brian shrugged, as baffled as she was about it, "I guess I'll go find out."

"I swear, if it is carolers..." She trailed off as she stood from the couch, watching him go to the door. She really didn't know what she'd do, but she hated caroling. It was as bad as tickling. She watched as her husband unlocked the door and yanked it open.

"Merry Christmas!" She heard the distinct voices of his parents cheerily announce. And indeed, there they _were_ , bundled up, and carrying gifts and a tinfoil covered baking dish.

"What?! Guys!" Brian was absolutely dumbfounded, "You said you were going to be in New York. I figured we'd be face timing later today."

"I know," His mother pulled him into a big hug, "But we thought about it and decided we wanted to spend Christmas with you two instead," She said before moving past him, face lighting up when she saw Helga walking towards them. "Merry Christmas!"

Terry stepped in behind his wife, carrying all the gifts with a chuckle rolling across his bearded face, "I wanted to call, but your mother insisted on it being a surprise. Hope we aren't interrupting anything."

"Nope. We just had breakfast and we were opening up some presents."

"Are you guys hungry?" Helga asked after Penny finally set her free of the hug she'd captured her in.

"Oh no, we ate before we came over," Terry shook his head, still smiling as he walked into the living room and sat the gifts in front of the couch. "We did bring some homemade cinnamon rolls for you two though." He held a covered dish up, which Brian took.

"What a charming little house," Penny gushed as she walked in, looking every which a way.

Helga blinked, before smiling, "Oh, thank you."

"You know I never liked that condo of his."

"Mom..." Brian began.

"It just had no character, you know?" Terry effectively ignored her son, continuing her chat with her daughter-in-law.

"It was a bachelor pad, for sure," Helga agreed.

The young man cleared his throat, "Well...I was a bachelor and it was my pad," He reasoned as his mother waved him off.

"It was no reason not to decorate a little," His mother tutted at him as they walked around the couch. Helga took the cinnamon rolls from her husband and retreated them to the kitchen.

"Who got the computer?" Terry asked as he looked over at his son.

Brian smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets, yet again being reminded about the rings, "I got it for her."

"Oh man," His dad smirked, "That's nice. What'd you get?"

"She got me a week long ski trip to aspen."

Penny smiled, "That sounds wonderful."

"Lands," Terry's eyes widened, "You guys had a good Christmas."

"I put another pot of coffee on," Helga announced, walking back into the living area.

"You two will have a blast in Aspen," His mother told the both of them, "We spent a few days there last year. It's _very_ beautiful."

"I'll be right back. I've got to use the restroom," Brian pipped up, lying so that he could skip off to their bedroom and toss his box of rings back into his secret hiding spot. Maybe a time later would pop up, but he considered it divine intervention his parents had shown up when they did. Who was he to argue...or try to force it. As he was leaving the closet, he figured he might as well take a leak, just so it didn't look weird if he had to go back so quickly.

When he returned he found that his parents had migrated into the kitchen, both standing over the oven, trying a bite of Helga's baked oatmeal. "Delicious. I bet Brian loved it. He likes dessert breakfasts."

"He ate like three bowls."

"Once that boy discovered food, he never stopped eating," His mother chuckled as she shook her head.

"Never," Terry vouched.

Helga nodded, "Yep. Never not hungry, that one."

They didn't even notice him walk up behind them because they were so busy carrying on conversation about him, like he wasn't around the corner or anything. "I'm right here."

Penny slightly jumped and turned around with everybody else, "One of these days, I'm going to put a bell around your neck."

Brian rolled his eyes, as he walked over to the cinnamon rolls, peaking under the foil, "You've been saying that for years," He teased, deciding that he did indeed feel like a having one, despite the fact that he was still packed to the gills full.

Helga was over to the side, having a real good laugh about the whole thing, and she couldn't resist messing with him further, "Good to know I wasn't the only one you liked sneaking up behind."

"Really?" Brian asked as he shoved half a cinnamon roll into his mouth, "We've got to bring that up?"

"Oh yes," His wife chuckled back, before glancing at her in-laws, "He used to creep up behind me when we were in elementary school." At which, both of them started laughing.

" _Okay_...it was hardly creeping."

"You would breathe heavily!" Helga sputtered in laughter, "Like you never cleared your throat. What was with that by the way?"

"He had a deviated septum," Penny explained, looking over at her son, still chuckling.

"Oh yeah," Terry went on, "He wheezed all over the place until he got it fixed in fifth grade."

"He got punched quite a few times because of it."

"That explains the slew of broken glasses for awhile..." Terry chuckled.

* * *

The foursome shared a round of coffee and a cinnamon rolls before re-gathering in the living room to open up a few more gifts. Terry and Penny sat, each opening up matching boxes that contained, "Sunglasses. Man I've been needing a new pair too," Brian's dad happily said, holding up his pair before sliding them on.

"They're super nice, so make sure you guys _don't_ lose them," Brian begged of them, watching his mom pull hers out and put them on her face, turning to her husband.

"How do I look?"

"Like you have sunglasses on," Terry teased his wife, "They look good," He then turned to his son and daughter-in-law, "Thank you guys."

"We'll definitely need these in Florida," Penny happily agreed, "Brian never would tell me what you guys wanted or needed," She pushed her new shades up over her white hair to sit atop her head, "So...I hope you like it." She told them as Brian dragged over a larger, flat rectangle shaped present that had been brought.

He tore open the paper, he and Helga finding a very elegant burlap piece or art, with a large black 'M' front and center, Miller written underneath, and finally the date they got married underneath that. All of it stretched over a canvas and held in an absolutely _beautiful_ handmade frame. "Wow..." Brian commented, glancing at Helga, hoping to judge her reaction to such a personal gift. He loved it though.

"It's gorgeous," Helga told him, still a little gobsmacked by it. It seemed entirely _too_ personal but she had to keep reminding herself that his parent's, just like everybody else—besides Phoebe—didn't _know_ the truth. That didn't make it any less of a thoughtful gift, or an absolutely beautiful wall piece. The only thing she was suddenly sad about was not having that fire place to put it above. "I'm really hating that we don't have a fireplace to hang it over now," She smirked.

"Tell me about it," Brian shook his head in disappointment, taking a quick glance around before suggesting, "We could put it above our bed."

"Yeah..." Helga trailed off, "I'd kind of like more than just us to see it though," She looked back at his parents, who both looked over the moon about the fact that their gift was well received, "Thanks guys."

"You're welcome."

"So dad, I'm going to fire up the fire pit this evening,"

"That ought to be fun," Terry smiled.

"What time are you going to see Helga's family? We don't want to hog your _entire_ day," Penny insisted. It may have been a surprise visit but they weren't the type to impede plans by any means.

"Uh..." Helga's brow scrunched as she quickly began thinking of a tactful way to respond to a question she wasn't expecting. What she couldn't see was Brian standing slightly behind her, doing the _dont-bring-up-again-please_ flattened hand swipe to his parents. "No...I didn't plan on seeing them today so..." She shrugged.

A momentary pause crept in before Brian cleared his throat and said, "Fire pits and hot chocolate it is then."

* * *

They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting, watching the parade, periodic cat naps, setting up her new computer, finding a spot to hang their new picture, which was still being debated. If Helga couldn't come up with something better, above the bed it was going to have to go. Her house was small, she didn't have gobs of wall space.

By twilight, Brian got the fire pit cleaned out, some dry logs tossed in with some lighter fluid and a warm, roaring fire going for them to all sit out by.

"I mean...I like teaching the classes that I do and I love teaching at a college level but...I feel like there is a good chunk of my students that are there because there parents view the university as a day-care service. So, they don't take anything seriously. "

Penny nodded, "There has definitely been a shift in teacher and school expectations over the last twenty years. As much as I loved teaching, I'm glad I retired when I did."

"Yeah, I don't know that I want to teach these classes forever. Ideally I want to tenure in the next few years and move to four hundred level and above classes only, but...we'll see," Helga shrugged as she shoved her hands back into her jacket pockets, sitting back in her chair. She and Penny had gotten into a good discussion on education while Brian and his dad had been geeking out over the fire pit and other potential backyard projects.

When her husband re-seated himself beside her, he was wearing a wide smile, asking, "What do you think about adding some trees over there," He pointed to the far fence, "In the spring?"

Helga chuckled, amused that he thought she cared, "You know how much _I've_ done to this backyard since moving in? Nothing. Zilch. Besides paying a kid to cut the grass."

"Is that a yes?" Brain's eyebrow quirked in confusion.

"Go for it," She encouraged right as she felt her phone began to vibrate in her pocket, having no clue who would be calling her. Pulling it out she rolled her eyes and sighed when she saw her sister's name on the screen.

"Who's that?" Brian asked, having stood up and tossed another log into the pit.

"My sister."

"You going to answer?"

"Nope," Helga resolutely said before ignoring the call and putting her phone back into her pocket. She caught her in-laws sharing a fleeting look with each other, and she figured it was probably just beyond weird to them that somebody would ignore their family on a holiday _practically_ designed for family time.

"Hey mom," Brian looked away from his wife and over to Penny, "I've got all the stuff for hot chocolate."

Penny's face lit up, "I was just thinking that we haven't made a single cup all December. Do you need some help making it?"

"I was hoping that you would just come do it," Brian smiled ear-to-ear in a _pretty please_ kind of way. Helga could imagine he'd made that face a million times as a kid when he wanted something.

"You're something else," Penny rolled her eyes, but got up out of her chair and began accompanying her son to the house.

It wasn't long after mother and son scampered inside to make said world famous hot chocolate that Terry took the opportunity to lean forward, turn and give his daughter-in-law a understanding look. "Penny wont come out and say anything because it's just how she is about personal business, but, we get it. About your family. It's nothing to feel self conscious about around us."

To say Helga was a little caught of guard by that was putting it lightly. It was the last thing she expected him to say. Never the less, she'd long since grown out of her knee jerk reaction ways of telling people to mind their own business. She was a mature adult. Educating kids herself, amazingly enough. However, she was curious as to _how_ he deduced all that. There could be a _number_ of things going on. "Was it that obvious?" She asked, never looking away from the fire.

"Your noticeable embarrassment over them being mentioned? A little. Brian standing behind you motioning for us to drop it earlier. More so."

That was finally enough to draw her eyes to the older man. With a sigh, she curtly chuckled, "He had the misfortune of meeting them on Thanksgiving," She explained, though intending to be as vague as possible, because she _hated_ talking about her family. Yet, something about him, much like his son, just made her _keep_ talking. Maybe it was the fact that she felt like they genuinely cared. "My parents aren't good people. Nothing dark or anything like that but...I don't know...I've spent a lot of my life fighting not to feel like a damaged good because of them. I'm kind of starting to feel that way again around you guys."

Terry smiled, "You shouldn't."

A polite smile came to her face, "No offense. And I _truly_ am not being a jerk saying this but..."

"We can't possibly understand?"

"Yeah."

Terry nodded, smiling momentarily before take a breath, "My father was an abusive alcoholic, and my mother died when I was seven. My three brothers and I were on our own. I left the house at eighteen, never looked back and never saw him again. Penny's mother abandoned her with her elderly grandparents when she was three years old. They couldn't take care of her so she bounced around in the foster system until she turned eighteen."

"Oh...wow," Helga was dumbfounded.

"The point is...we understand what its like not to have a good relationship with family because we didn't come from good situations ourselves. It's nothing to feel ashamed of. You're doing just fine."

"I know," Helga smiled, suddenly really happy she'd gotten to be privy to such information. "That's amazing though. I would have never guessed." These people were the real life inspiration behind wholesome family sitcoms, hailing from a long generation of family greatness. Apparently...not.

"Nobody does. Because we broke the cycle and created the family that we always wanted. Which is one reason our son's happiness has always meant everything to us."

Helga smirked, chuckling quietly as she thought about how happy-go-luckly Brian really was, "Well, I think you guys have done a fantastic job because he literally is the happiest most optimist person this side of the equator."

"He has probably been the happiest I've _ever_ seen him these last few months. And that's saying something."

"Must be the fire pit here. He's very proud of it, if you haven't noticed."

Terry laughed, "He should be. He did a great job," He looked at it for a moment before turning back to her, "He's very proud of you too."

Before she had a chance to say anything back, they heard Penny and Brian coming out the back of the house with the hot chocolate she turned back to give her father-in-law one last look, mouthing a 'thanks' before they were re-joined. Terry smiled and nodded before resuming his jovial self.

* * *

Much later than they anticipated, they bid his parents goodbye and began putting away all the dishes that Penny had _insisted_ on cleaning before she left, against Helga's insistence that it was fine. Helga walked up to Brian, wrapping her arms around him and giving him a big, tight bear hug. "You better not ever utter a single ill word about your mom and dad. You're the luckiest human being on the planet to have such decent and loving human beings for parents."

Brian began chuckling as he wrapped his arms around her, "Jeez, you and my dad must have _really_ bonded while we were making hot chocolate. Either that or my mom forcefully doing dishes was the key to your heart."

* * *

 **Next Day.**

"So...I've got one more surprise that I didn't mention yesterday, because it's not _really_ a Christmas gift," Brian announced right as they had just sat down to breakfast. Helga gave him a fleeting but skeptical look before she began cutting up her pancakes. "We are going to watch the ball drop this year from..." He smiled widely and began doing both of his index fingers on the table like a drum roll, "The Millennium Tower open air in Seattle."

"Whoa, what?" His wife whipped her head in his direction, a surprised smile slowly working its way to her face, "Really?"

"Yep."

"How did you manage that? Those tickets are sold out _months_ in advance."

"Sorcery," He teased to her unamused eye roll, "No. Sergio, you know my boss, had them and now can't go because his wife took a nasty spill while ice skating and had to have hip surgery last week."

Helga scowled, "That's unfortunate." Also very painful sounding.

"Yeah..." Brian nodded, "We're kind of enjoying their misfortune."

"Eh...I would want somebody else to do the same," She chuckled.

* * *

"Hey..." Brian slowly said as he walked around the corner, into the living room, steadily inspecting a necklace that he'd found in the pencil holder on his desk. He looked up, seeing Helga laying on the couch, channel surfing, "Is this yours?" He held it up.

Helga squinted and frowned as her husband carried it closer, "No..." She sat up, "Where'd you find it?"

"Where I keep all my pens and things on my desk."

His wife shrugged, shaking her head, "Yeah I have no... _wait._.." Her face began slowly taking on a more annoyed expression, "Didn't _Rhonda_ take one of her _party naps_ ," She air quoted, "In there on Halloween?"

"...Yeah."

"Dammit Rhonda!" Helga groaned, flopping back on the couch.

"Wow..." Brian stared at the necklace wound between his fingers, "I've officially found a lost Rhonda item. It's like finding buried treasure." He chuckled.

* * *

 **Seattle. New Years Eve.**

The champagne was flying, the spirits were high, but the temperature was bone _chillingly_ low. And there was wind, had that been mentioned yet? No? Well it was windy. Both Helga and Brian had intended to dress to the nines to enjoy a classy evening on the open air deck of Millennium Tower, but that got canned pretty quickly when they touched down and got off the plane. Instead, both were dawning thick jackets, scarves, beanies, and glove bound hands clutching flutes of champagne to warm up their red, wind whipped cheeks.

Despite all of that, despite the freezing temperatures, they were having a _blast_ hanging out with a crowd of other people, waiting to ring in the new year. Helga hadn't watched the ball drop in two years, and it had been about five years since she'd actively done anything to celebrate it. "I think I'm going to have to switch to liquor," Brian said as he downed the last of his flute, "The champagne isn't keeping me warm."

"Quitter," Helga teased, "What are you going to go get?"

"Uh..." He thought for a second, "Probably a whiskey neat. Why, do you want one?"

She wasn't a big fan of whiskey, but he was right, she felt like she needed something a little stronger to warm her insides, "How about a bourbon."

"Neat?"

"Yeah..." She'd prefer ice but not in _that_ climate. Finishing off her flute, he took both of them and pushed his way through the crowd towards the outside bar. While he was away, Helga turned and propped her arms up on the railing, staring out over the hopping city that she had the _perfect_ view of. A city that they'd be staying in for a few days, and she found herself smiling over it. She was looking forward to some good eating, some good drinking and _maybe_ some good relaxation after Christmas.

The fireworks were already beginning to pop. Prematurely, as they were about fifteen minutes from the new year. Still a pretty pre-show none-the-less. "Nevermind..." Brian returned beside her, "They've already closed the bar."

Helga cracked a smile, floating her brows high, "Well it's about fifteen till. I guess that's there way of tell everybody to get the hell out after the ball drops."

"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here," Her husband sang with a smirk pulling to his lips.

His wife tossed her blue eyes before cracking her own smile, "I have not had _near_ enough to drink, to start singing that song."

"Do you want to go someplace else when we leave here?"

"Do you?"

Brian chuckled, "I'm asking _you._ "

"Honestly? I'm kind of frozen solid and a little on the tired side," She admitted. Man she was getting old. She used to be able to go hard on new years nights. Okay, maybe not that hard. But staying up super late used to have little to no effect on her the next morning.

"That's fine. We just go back to the room."

"I mean...it is _super_ nice," Helga laughed. Sergio hadn't mentioned that he hadn't just booked a random hotel room for a few days. He'd booked a dang _suite_ at one of the nicer hotels in the area.

"I know...we almost could have hung out on that balcony with champagne instead."

"No kidding," She agreed. "It would have been warmer."

" _A lot_ warmer."

"This has been fun though. I'm trying to feel really bad for his wife's accident but..."

Brian started laughing, shaking his head, "Until we start sending selfies you aren't in poor taste."

"I guess," She shrugged, "It was nice of him to pass it along. He probably could sold these tickets and gotten some money back on the hotel."

"Yeah...he's a cool guy like that though. Kind of a...money isn't everything type of person. It's why I like him so much," Her husband explained, "When was the last time you watched the ball drop?"

"The last time we had a gang party, probably."

" _Really?_ "

Helga thinned her eyes up at him, "Um... _yeah._ I can't do late nights like I used to. When was your last time?"

"The year before I think, but it was because the girl I was dating at the time wanted to go bar hopping with her friends."

She snorted, "I can't imagine _you_ bar hopping."

"Neither can I," Brian chuckled, propping his elbow in the balcony and leaning against it, "That's why she got left where she was at about one thirty."

"Ouch." She had a hard time imagining him just abandoning a girl, considering what a nice guy he was.

"What? She had friends with her. It wasn't like I left her in a seedy place all by herself."

"I see why that one didn't work out."

"Hey at least I didn't tell her my parents were dead," He teased, eyeballing her with a pair of raised brows, eliciting an eye roll from her.

"I knew I would regret that. For more than one reason now," She shook her head.

"It's funny, don't pretend it's not."

Helga was about to reply back when the somber music that had been playing cut and something more upbeat took its place after a somebody came on announcing the two minute warning. "Well, here we go..." She replied instead.

"Excited?"

"Why?"

"New year, new you."

"Oh don't even," Helga held her hand up to silence him, causing him to laugh, "Crap like that is why I left Facebook."

"You are missing so much gold though."

"I'm _perfectly_ okay with letting you mine it."

 _"10...9...8...7..."_

The pair of them turned and looked out over the city, starting to see more pops of color exploding at random in the sky all over the city.

 _"6...5...4...3...2...1."_

"Happy New Year!" They both shouted with the rest of the crowd. The sky erupted into red, blue, green and white explosions, the popping becoming almost deafening.

"Come here," Brian pulled her to him, "It's bad luck not to kiss when the ball drops."

Helga slyly smirked up at him, "Says who?"

Brian rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around her, "Says common knowledge."

"Yeah, yeah..." She snickered before pushing up on her toes to meet him for a good little new years smooch, "Alright...I'm freezing so lets go."

He smiled against her lips before pulling away, "Also...to beat the crowd."

" _Yep._ "

Brian grabbed her hand and began dragging her through the wad of people all congested on the balcony, taking pictures and whatnot. By the skin of their teeth, they made it to the elevators before a crap ton of people began filling into the waiting area, seeking to go else where now that the alcohol had stopped flowing.

They made it to the downstairs lobby area and out onto the main street, which was as hopping as they had ever seen. They set out, walking as fast as they could, into the wind to their annoyance, to their hotel only a short distance down the street—she really hoped that women's hip healed well. They were both frozen solid by the time they made it to the room. "I understand why old people want to _retire_ to warmer places. I'm not even that _old_ and I can't deal with the cold like I used to," Helga grumbled, her teeth still chattering.

Brian laughed, closing the door behind them, "I'm pretty sure that's why my parents bought an RV to travel." He heard her chuckle as she walked into the bathroom, having shed her coat on the bed, and leaving another trail of various layers in her wake. While he was peeling off his own jacket, he heard the water turn on. Kicking off his shoes, he wandered in, seeing her, hair up, stepping into the shower and closing the door behind her. She turned and saw him giving her a funny look.

"When I am _this_ frozen, the only way I can warm up quickly is to get in the shower."

" _Ah,_ " He nodded before dragging his sweater and shirt over his head, "Solid plan. And here I was just going to go hop in the bed like a pleb."

"Oh no..." Helga sternly replied, "You aren't going to be getting in here and turning my hot water down," She warned, hoping to _maybe_ deter him from getting in _at all_. She wanted the shower stream all to herself like the selfish, frozen solid individual she was.

"I'm not, I'm not," He insisted as he pulled his pants off, "I promise," He opened up the door and stepped in. She scooted to the side to allow him to slip under the amazingly warm water. It felt so good it burned. Especially his feet. Which were colder than he realized. The pair spent a few minutes, wordlessly swaying around in the spray, thawing out. What finally spurred any conversation at all was Helga brushing against him, turning, looking down and then up at him, "It seems _somebody_ didn't get frozen tonight."

Her husband chuckled, "It's got a mind of it's own."

" _Sure_ it does," She lightly disputed before turning around.

"So I'm just suppose to stare at a naked woman and pretend I'm dead inside? _Okay_ ," Brian rolled his eyes as he stared down at her, a more mischievous little smirk drawing to his lips, "I don't think we've ever messed around in the shower," He made the astute observation. And by that point, they'd probably fooled around _almost_ everywhere.

"Can't say I've ever been a fan," Helga smirked back up at him.

" _Really?_ "

She shrugged, "It has a level of trickiness that I don't like devoting the energy to."

"Is that your way of saying you're lazy?"

"I'm _saying_...it's not a top ten for me," She copped back.

"Obviously, you haven't been doing it right. There's a technique to it you know."

"Is that right?" Helga thinned her eyes at him, biting her lip a bit before asking, "And what technique is _that?_ " With a quirked brow.

"Don't get creative."

His answer made her snort in laughter, "Oh trust me, it's never been _me_ wanting to reinvent sex in the shower. It's always been _you_ guys wanting to do every _ridiculous_ thing you've _ever_ seen in a porno," She poked her index finger in his chest.

"Hey..." He feigned a little offense, "Don't lump me in with all of those other losers."

Helga smirked, "Oh, so I dated nothing but losers?"

"Well _yeah_..." Her husband laughed with a lopsided smile in place, "So did I. It's why we're here. Remember?"

Yeah, so she walked right into that one. But instead of continuing to jab back and forth she opted to just chuckle under her breath, and give him the ole' "Yeah, yeah. Still not a fan," And be done with it. It seemed like it all happened in a flash, and maybe because it caught her by surprise and maybe because she'd never seen him move that fast but, in an instant he had reached up and pushed the shower head to the side, leaving the water to beat down on the glass door before roughly pushing her up against the tile wall. One of his hands coming up to her chest, playing with one of her nipples for a moment before leaning in and hovering over her lips with a smirk, "Move the water, and use the wall," He growled in a low voice, "That's _all_ you have to do to have a good time," He finished with a little smirk of his lips.

Helga rolled her eyes, mouth cracking into a side smile, "Sound theory..."

"I'll make a believer out of you yet," He replied in a low chuckle before giving her a fast kiss and beginning to sink to the floor. Something she did _not_ expect. On his descent down, his mouth stopped over her chest, teasing her hardened nipples with his tongue, taking them into his mouth in turn. Helga bit her lip, shutting her eyes at her hands wound into his hair.

She felt one of his hands skim down her, before slipping inside her wet warmth, bringing a hiss to her lips. No sooner than he'd started, his hand drew his lips further, and further down until— _God bless America_ —he pushed her legs apart so his mouth could pick up where his fingers had left off. His bedroom spontaneity didn't disappoint. She was a responsive little thing too, and he _loved_ catching her off guard like that. All she could do as he worked her was hope that her shaky legs didn't give way. She'd never had anybody do something like that to her before! He was _so_ unassuming too. "Brian..." A moan finally escaped her throat, "I..I can't...I..." She lost her train of thought completely as she was just on the cusp of not being able to take it anymore.

But he suddenly stopped, leaving her feeling like a wedged spring, teetering on a ledge of absolute madness. Coming up to her flushed lips, he lightly kissing her a few times before asking, "Top ten yet?"

"I'm not easily wowed," She breathed back, still unwilling to give him an _inch_ as she pulled his head into the kiss he was teasing her with. While their tongues danced with one another, Brian hands cupped her thighs, pulling her up against the wall, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist. Once pinning her he began rocking himself ever so slightly against her, creating a maddeningly good friction that started driving her _wild._

Finally she broke the kiss, leaving his lips to fall to her neck and to that _amazing_ little spot just below her ear that always sent waves of goosebumps running her entire body when he kissed it. "You sure?" He murmured.

"Is this your plan? To tease me into agreement?" She groaned, attempting to push up and take him, but he had her pinned too tightly. As much as she had been loving every second of the torture, no matter _what_ her mouth said, she needed him, and she needed him _right_ then.

Her husband smiled against her flesh, "I want to hear you beg."

"I wont..." She abruptly trailed off, biting her lip as her breath got taken away by the amount of pleasure he was already giving to her, "You'll give up first."

Brian just continued his rocking, "You want to test that?"

"I know how you are."

"You aren't in control," He reminded her, "I am. Tell me what you want," He demanded in a low voice.

At that, Helga closed her eyes, trying so badly to block out every sensation he was causing around her body, so completely on the edge of breaking but having no control to do anything about it. His foreplay game was strong, and he just kept rubbing _against_ her. "God..." She finally whined in a moan of a voice, so desperate for something to give, "Wreck me please," She begged. So, apparently her body had decided to do all the talking from there.

Brian smiled, "Was that so bad?" He moved his head and gave her a lingering kiss.

"Awful..." One of her hands moved from his neck up to the back of his head where her fingers ran through his hair again, lightly scratching his scalp.

"Points for being dirty about it," He applauded before pulling her up him, repositioning and slipping inside of her, wasting no time as he started moving in and out of her haphazardly.

"Oh.. _fu_ —Brian."

"Y-yeah?"

"God, _yes_ ," He felt her fingernails dig a little harder into his shoulder, "Oh shit! Ha— _harder_." Brian groaned at her request, thrusting his hips more forcefully into hers, " _Yes._ That's...oh God ri—right _there_. _Ah_...don't stop." Helga cried, a shudder ripping through her shortly after. Feeling her ride out her orgasm sent Brian's springing from him so quickly that it rendered him almost temporarily brain dead.

When he finally stopped moving and there was nothing left of the two but rapid heartbeats, panting and the forgotten shower pelting down on the glass door, Helga said, "Top twenty," In a winded voice that came through a tiny but teasing, glowing kind of smile.

Brian tiredly laughed, pulling back to look at her, in no rush to set her down, and separate them, "I guess it's going to take a few more demonstrations."

"I'm a tough customer."

"I'm persistent seller."

* * *

For a shower that hadn't been intended for bathing, some bathing actually did take place. Brian being the first one to exit, him being the one that had the _least_ to clean up afterwards. He was the first one dressed and comfortably under the covers for bed when Helga slipped out of the _well used_ bathroom. The TV was on, and he'd put it on some travel show to provide some monotonous noise so he could wind down off of his high. They didn't have a TV in their room, but sometimes, he wished they did.

It would aid well in providing him with a distraction at times. Not that there was anything wrong, and quite frankly, he could have used the distraction _well_ before they had shifted into a normal, healthy sex life with one another. It just felt like there was always something missing. They just kind of...did the deed and went about their day. Which normal couples did _too_ , but...

They never cuddled. Like ever. It suddenly occurred to him as she slipped into the covers and sighed into the comfort of the hotel pillow beside him.

He didn't count the time they were sick and marooned on the couch. That was purely economical. He understood why they didn't, he supposed. It was _incredibly_ intimate. So were rings, but even though he really liked the idea of them having that because it made him feel...fuzzy inside it was also an attempt to add assurance to everything and...be like their friends. But still though, it was weird to think about cuddling being _too_ much, when they were doing all manner of dirty things with one another on a _regular_ basis. True, it was _physical_ desire for the most part. The brain's need to continue the species and all. Cuddling did not aid, what-so-ever, in feeling good, or in not going extinct.

It didn't go unnoticed to Helga either, who, upon climbing into the bed beside him, began thinking about how _nice_ snuggling on cold nights had been when she'd been in a _normal_ relationship. Even if she _had_ hated when men stayed the night. And that was the root of the problem. Even though things were falling into place, they still didn't have a totally _normal_ relationship. Emotional purgatory was what she was starting to feel like they were living in. They'd been friends too long for it to be _just_ sex, but they still didn't have the _complete_ connection to warrant doing something as intimate as cuddling with one another afterwards. Or at all.

Or maybe they _did?_

She felt herself wanting that little bit of something, more and more. Perhaps he did too?

But it hadn't reached a point where she felt like making that move, and she had to assume it hadn't for him either.

They never held hands either. Unless one counted him dragging her along while they were in a hurry to get somewhere while grumbling something about her having petite strides the entire way. She didn't count it...or think her walking strides were all that short, but whatever.

It really was the little things sometime.

* * *

 **End of January.**

Helga had never changed her name. A fact that was brought to her attention by a fellow colleague after she wrote a check like an eighty year old for a few boxes of girl-scout cookies—because she never carried cash—and they made the observation that it still said _Pataki._

Yes, it did.

And it was even more noticeable now that Brian's name was underneath it.

To be fair she'd never _intended_ to ever change it. It wasn't a real marriage and if things went horribly wrong, she didn't want to have to go through the hassle of changing it back. Lord knew she'd seen all the trouble her sister had gone through. Twice! And apparently she didn't learn her lesson! Of course she also thought three marriages to begin with was a lot of hassle, but to each their own.

There was also the dreaded feeling of giving up her independence and most importantly, her _identity_ for something that _wasn't_ real.

But, now she didn't know. She got a very crazy, butterfly type feeling in her stomach when she thought about actually taking on her married name. Legally or otherwise. It didn't feel all that scary to leave Pataki behind anymore...and even more peculiar, it didn't feel all that _weird_ for it _not_ to be changing to Shortman. Which had been the only name she'd _ever_ expected to change to.

To the point where she'd been well practiced in signing it. Yeah she was a weirdo but, _hello_ , destiny had been a sure bet at the time and she figured she had only been getting ahead of everything.

But things changed, and Miller had a pretty good cursive flow behind her own name. She'd done some test runs, yes.

From there, the thought of it had became so prevalent in her mind that she'd actually gone online—okay, that new computer _was_ amazing—and printed out the necessary documents to make the change. And...crazily enough...gone about _filling_ them out.

And while that was a big step in itself, she wasn't _quite_ ready to turn it all in, so it got securely tucked into her work bag to await the final push that she needed for it become a thing.

She wasn't sure what that would be, but she felt like it would be obvious to her.

* * *

 **Valentines Day.**

She wouldn't call them big plans, maybe not even plans. More like, _'Hey I saw this pub downtown was doing a haunted bar crawl for Valentines day, want to check it out?'_ type of deal. Helga had never cared much about the date in particular, having on more than one occasion asked why one needed a specific day to show their special person some love. And Brian...well, he considered it a commercial cash grab.

So they had that going for them. But they _were_ going out.

At least it was a super casual thing. Though she did decide to curl her hair. She hadn't done that in awhile. And she had just released the last loose curl from the iron when her phone began sliding on the vanity from vibrating so hard.

"Gerald?" She scowled as she grabbed for it. He never called her! Hell must have frozen over. Or Phoebe was in trouble. "Everything okay?" She timidly asked as she held the phone to her ear.

 _"Jeez, you always assume the worst don't you?"_

Helga rolled her eyes, "Why else would you be calling me? What do you want?"

 _"I'm desperate."_

"...okay?"

 _"So I booked Phoebe and I a dinner downtown at The Root Cellar."_

"Oh nice, she'll love that."

 _"I know. And I booked this months ago."_

"So why are you calling to tell _me_ about it?"

 _"...our babysitter cancelled."_

Helga blinked, "Oh _no_..." She began protesting, finally realizing what the whole call was about.

 _"Why not, you've watched them before?"_

"No. No, no. I watched _one_...one, Gerald! Not all three!"

 _"Look woman. I. Am. Desperate here. I've got a wife whose been looking forward to this forever and we haven't even been on a real date in months..."_ When Helga didn't say anything back he resorted to more pleading, _"I will give you anything...name your price!"_

"Okay, okay! _Sheesh!_ I don't want your money."

 _"Thank you!"_

"So...what do you want me to come over there like...now?"

 _"Can you be here in fifteen?"_

Helga let her head loll back on her shoulders as she made the most epic eye roll that he would never see, "Fine. I'll see you in a bit." She replied in a slightly groan of a tone, making to hang up before, "You owe me big time," Finally hanging up and going to find that husband of hers. Brian was plopped on the couch, happily scrolling through whatever on his phone as he waited for her to be finished. "Would you hate it if we had a change of plans?"

Brian glanced up from his phone and shrugged, "Considering they weren't set in stone plans to begin with, no. Why, what's up?"

"Gerald and Phoebe's babysitter bailed...and he had dinner book at The Root Cellar," She crossed her arms and leaned against the corner of the wall.

"Damn...he got reservation there?"

"Yeah," Helga's eyes widened as she nodded.

"He must have booked _months_ ago."

" _Months_ ," She reiterated, "Anyway, I told him I'd come over and watch the kids so they could still go."

"What time?"

"Like _now_..."

Brian nodded, sliding his phone in his pocket as he stood up, "Oh, alright. Well, lets go then."

"I didn't say _you_ had to come."

"Well I can't stay home."

Helga frowned, "Why not?"

Her husband shrugged. He _could_ stay home, he just didn't _feel_ like staying home. "Because I'm already in the mood to go somewhere? Do you not want me to come?"

"I don't care. I just figured you wouldn't want to," She explained as she went to grab her keys from the kitchen.

"Nope. I'm fine with tagging along."

"Great. _Let's go._ "

* * *

Gerald pulled the front door open wide, never being so grateful to see Helga in his life. _And_ Brian. "You brought reinforcement. Smart. Safety in numbers. That's our motto," He pointed both index fingers at them before turning and hurrying back down the hallway.

"Hello to you _too_..." Helga quietly called after him. The pair walked into the living room which was kind of a wreck, toys all over the place while their three year old son, James, ran through them like a mine field, laughing and giggling while the two eleven month old twins, Connor and Callie sat and watched in enamored joy.

"Hey kiddo!" Helga called out to James, the excited little boy turning, smiling and running to jump on the couch in front of where she'd come to stand.

"Aunt Helga!" He exclaimed before immediately launching into a blabbering run on sentence describing something he'd eaten earlier and then how his brother and sister were being bad because they kept taking his toys.

"Oh, I told him not to bother you tonight," Phoebe called to her friend as she descended the stairs, dressed in a sharp little blue dress with accenting heels, "But thank you so much," She skipped over and pulled the blonde into a giant bear hug.

"We didn't really have plans anyway," Helga said through the squeezing and diminished lung capacity.

Phoebe pulled back with a look of curiousness upon her face, "Are you sure?" She double checked before turning to Brian and smiling, "Hey Brian."

"Other than maybe going on a haunted bar crawl but we were on the fence still."

"She was scared," The blonde guy teased.

Helga rolled her eyes and chuckled, "I ain't afraid of no ghost."

"A haunted bar crawl? For valentines day?"

"Yeah, apparently the place does it every year."

"Interesting," Phoebe noted, "So...James has eaten dinner and had his bath. The twins have eaten but haven't had a bath yet. There is a pizza on the way. They all should be going to bed in about an hour."

"Sounds pretty straight forward," Brian replied, turning as he heard Gerald's heavy footsteps skip down the stairs, he too being well dressed in slacks and a sport coat. "Looking snazzy mister Sexwhale," He whistled.

"Quiet, Cobbledick," Gerald chuckled, "But I'm hot though right?" He strutted the rest of the way to stand by his wife.

"I'd do bad things to you."

"You know that's right."

"Alright," Pheobe began ushering him to the door, "Lets go so we aren't late. Thank you again!"

"Yeah, yeah, get out of here you two."

And with that, the Johanssen were out the door and off to their romantic evening. Once closing the door she walked back over and around the couch and asked, "Why don't you show me all these cool toys, James?"

Brian had no idea that so much could go on in a one hour stretch of time. Then again he'd never before baby sat a single child let alone three in his life. Yes, he had been around all of their friends kids at some point, and considered himself very good with kids in general. But they'd never had his undivided attention before. In that one hour they'd gotten a pizza, built a fort out of pillows, played dinosaurs, read three books, and had two potty breaks.

It was while he was laying on his back, as James was pretending to excavate him as if he were a mummy, that he heard one of the twins start crying. Turning his head he glimpsed Helga set her pizza down, chuckling a little and saying, "Yep, saw that coming," and pick Callie up, cuddling her in an attempt to soothe her fit.

"What happened?" He asked.

"She tried to take Connor's teether, and then fell backwards when he wouldn't let go."

"Oh," He laughed.

"You okay?" Helga tilted her head down, peering at the little girl in her arms who had finally quieted down from her earlier tantrum. It caught her husband's attention because it was a voice he'd never heard out of her, "You want to get back down?" Callie shook her head no, still having her face firmly buried in Helga's shirt, "You want me to just hold you?" The child nodded.

Brian was enamored by that voice, it was _so_...soft and delicate and... _weird_ to hear out of her. Not that she didn't have a lovely voice or anything but...that was almost like he'd stumbled upon a secret side of her.

Helga walked back over to her pizza and continued eating with one hand while firmly holding child in the other. "Hey buddy," Brian looked back a James, who was inspecting his elbow with a little plastic magnifying glass, "We probably need to start winding down for bed."

"Ahhh..." He boy sadly whined.

"You want to go pick out some books to read before bed?" Helga suggested to him.

That seemed to lessen the blow of bedtime as the young man trudged off to the small bookshelf in the corner of the room and began pulling out what he wanted. Brian took the opportunity to drag himself up off the floor with a groan, "Jeez I'm getting old..." He said, holding his lower back as he straightened up, feeling all kinds of things out of wack from laying flat for so long.

His wife chortled, "Welcome to the club."

"I want all these," James came running back over with a small pile and handing them to Brian.

"Oh man, all of these?" He asked with a smile. James nodded, "I guess we better get busy reading then."

"Tell you what, how about you do that, and I'll start getting the twins ready for their bath."

"Sounds good."

"Good night James!" Helga called as the little boy began leading Brian to the stairs.

* * *

Brian had never read so many books in his life. In one sitting. And he didn't even get halfway through James' stack before the tuckered four year old was out like a light. Something he noticed about halfway through Pete the Cat but opting to finish the book to satisfy his own curiosity. "Goodnight little man," He said before killing the light, leaving the room and heading down the hallway.

He heard Helga talking to the twins in the bathroom, ducking in there to see if she needed any help. Those two little sugar lumps were giggling and splashing around in a bubble tub like it was going out of business while she was trying to make sure they got some soap in all the important areas. "No wonder Gerald and Phoebe always look tired. It's exhausting wrangling these guys."

"Right?" His wife chuckled in agreement.

He walked over and grabbed a wash cloth off of the rack before squatting down next to Helga, dipping it in the water and reaching out for a twin, "Come here you little...adorable child you," He said, attempting to wash their hair.

"Adorable, but slippery."

"No kidding!" He snorted, at least getting behind their ears before letting them return to their bubble splashing. He sat back and watched them for a moment, watching Helga smile at their general cute baby-ness before a single thought made him almost double over in laughter.

"What?" When he shook his head it only made her more curious as to what was so freakin' hilarious, "What is so funny?"

"Nothing. It's dumb." He didn't really want to tell her, because it was a _little_ awkward.

"Um...okay. We'll you've opened the can of worms now, so let's hear it."

Brian shrugged, a smirk having never left his face, "I just imagined my mom going into a Professor X type trance and saying, ' _Brian...and Helga...babies...grandchildren?'"_ He explained, starting to laugh again halfway through.

Thankfully, Helga started laughing too, "If she calls you randomly tonight, we'll know she felt a disturbance in the force."

"Oh jeez..."

"Alright, we have to get these two rug rats out of here and to bed."

* * *

 **A/N:** We'll there you have it, Helga and Brian wrangle Christmas, New Years, showers, and babysitting. What will they conquer next. Stay tuned!


	10. She was just after my sexy dad bod

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So remember like two years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just...marry each other like that story you read and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "Well...in case you forgot last night, my birthday is today...big ole three-oh...or as you said...the dirty thirty." "Oh my God."

 **A/N:** How big is this chapter? _'We're going to need a bigger boat'_ big. I am sorry! I get onto these spurts and this HAD to end where it does. So, yes it's long, but it's fun and you'll be justly rewarded by the end. And as I said last time this is my last 'M' rated chapter so, read at your own risk at the very end.

* * *

 **She was just after my sexy dad bod.**

What the Johanssen's had failed to mention, whether cleverly, or completely by accident, was that the twins had a bit of trouble sleeping...on their own...in their bed. After a whole hour and four attempts to get them to stay asleep in the cribs, Helga and Brian gave up, resigning themselves to the downstairs cough with two little sugar lumps laying fast asleep on each of them.

"Is this parenthood?" Brian chuckled in a quiet voice over to Helga, careful that he didn't disturb Connor sleeping soundly on his chest. He considered himself well practiced at such. They'd had a family cat growing up who loved to sleep on a lap. "Play time and snuggles?"

His wife smirked back, "Yeah pretty much. Baby sitting anyway." She peeked down at Callie, whose mouth had fallen open she was sleeping so hard, "I'm sure Phoebe has got some special way she gets them to stay asleep in their cribs that only she is capable of doing," She chuckled, playfully rolling her eyes about it. Her friends didn't have bad kids by any means. They had actually been quite easy to watch for a few hours. Not that she had load of experience of anything, but she figured it could be a lot worse than the Johanssen bunch. "At least they're cute, and good little snuggle buddies," She admitted, running her hand over Callie's back while momentarily slipping into that soft little tone that Brian had quickly coined as her _mom_ voice.

He couldn't really get past the enamor that he had over the different side of her that he was catching a big glimpse of that night. He knew that she wasn't all claws and fangs like she liked to put on, but it was just jarring to see her so soft in nature. It stirred something in him. Something funny, and fuzzy. She was stirring a lot of things in him those days. Tonight was just the latest. "You actually really like kids don't you?" He suddenly said, realizing that what he thought was a mental observation had popped right out of his mouth instead. He immediately felt bad for putting her on the spot that way, but opted to lean into it versus apologizing over it. There was nothing wrong with being curious.

One of Helga's brows lifted as she gave his unintended observation some thought. She couldn't say anybody had ever accused her of being a kid person, "No. I mean...not really," She replied, non-nonchalantly shrugging.

Brian's mouth down-turned into a quick scowl before he smirked again at her. He didn't entirely believe that. She was too good with them not have some fondness. God, and her mom instincts were on point too. Or maybe it was just normal instincts and his just weren't all that good in the seeing danger before it happened department. "You could have fooled me."

Truthfully, kids didn't bother her as much as they used to, which made her really wonder if she was indeed mellowing out as the got older. "I like our friend's kids. I'd like my own kids." She began explaining the best way she knew how, "Stranger kids? Nope."

"I'd _hope_ you'd like your own kids," Her husband chuckled, moving a little too much and stirring Connor. He instantly stilled and wrapped his arms around the half-asleep boy, soothing him back down.

Helga chuckled quietly in return,"Eh, if they turned into a mini-me I might give them back."

"Mother of the year over here."

"Ha... _ha_. You aren't so bad with them yourself," Helga smirked, impressed with his ability to handle his own. "I was kind of thinking you might get thrown to the wolves tonight."

"Is that's why you agreed to bring me?"

"To be a sacrificial lamb? You bet," She teased, "I only had to outrun you if things got out of control."

"Have I threatened divorce yet at all?" Brian smirked, reaching up and tapping his chin as he looked off, pretending to think.

"You want to learn how?"

"Have you already written a book on it?"

"Practically."

"What do you file ' _wife intended to feed me to hostile children'_ as on the papers?"

Helga snorted, "Irreconcilable differences."

* * *

Brian and Helga got back home a little before midnight, feeling pretty tired themselves despite having been laying on the couch and doing little more than watching a movie for the last few hours while being used as a sleeping device for children. They silently got ready for bed. Those new fuzzy, funny feelings had followed him home, and he felt his eyes wander to the open closet door as he absently brushed his teeth beside her. Wandering to the folded pair of jeans on the top rack that pocketed his secret treasure.

It seemed like every new feeling he had those days was getting pocketed for later assembly. And there was definitely _some assembly required._ He was so caught up with him emotional collection that he barely noticed Helga finish up and retreat to the confines of their bed or that if he brushed his teeth any more aggressively there wouldn't be any bristled left of the toothbrush. Spitting, and rinsing, he saw her already on her ' _fall asleep'_ side, eyes closed when he exited the bathroom.

He killed the light as he slid in beside her, turning to his side, facing her back in the dark. They fell asleep like that often, both falling into a routine of choosing to doze off on their right sides. Many of nights he wished they would cuddle. Especially the cold ones. He was in an especially snuggly mood that evening.

Normally he would have just ignored it and gone to sleep. No big deal. But there was definitely some assembly going on with his feelings that hadn't been present the dozens of other times he'd encountered this want. It was enough internal stirring taking place to make him feel a little emboldened to take a small leap. He took a quiet breath before scooting right up against her backside, and wrapping his arm around her. His hand ran up underneath her shirt, tucking it right beneath her upper rib cage. He wanted to touch her. Loved to touch her. Often times he had a hard time keep his hands off of her those days.

Things felt that they were becoming more irreversible than ever. The arrangement that they had...was starting to feel like a lot less of an arrangement to him. Some of the fragmented feelings he had, had started coming together to painting a picture, that while still largely incomplete, gave him a glimpse of what was going on with him.

Helga wasn't nearly asleep enough to not have noticed either, but just tired enough that her natural instinct to overreact to things was _greatly_ diminished. She was caught of guard, _sure_ , but she wasn't about to try and play hardball just because she had a reputation for giving people a hard time. She welcomed a little bit of intimacy, even if she didn't want to admit it. She brought her hand up, intertwining her fingers with the one that he had tucked underneath her, loving the fact that he had chosen to run it up under her shirt. There wasn't anything pervy about it, just a simple way of making it feel more cozy and personal. It took a little to get used to, but she had begun to like how he took liberties that way.

It made what would never be real, _feel_ real.

Brian recoiled her up tightly against him, giving her a few light kisses on the back of her head before resting his forehead against her and whispering, "Good night."

He wanted her.

He was beginning to understand _that_ much of the picture.

He wanted her, and not because she was all that was available to him. If he were granted the opportunity to undo everything, and reset back to before he showed up at her house to remind her of their drunken marriage pact, and nobody would remember a thing about the last few months, he'd one hundred percent, choose to stay _right_ where he was. He was certain of that.

Because he was happy.

"Night."

* * *

 **Morning**

Whether it was from waking up intertwined with one another for the first time _ever,_ or their biological clock's desperate desire to practice pro-creating after an evening with children, they weren't sure, but both had been soundly KO'd by two rounds of morning sex before breakfast was even _thought_ about.

Brian, and his never ending hunger, was the first to extract himself from the cozy little nest that was their bed, throwing on a shirt and boxers before heading to the kitchen to scrounge for food.

He could have eaten a few bowls of cereal or scrambled a few eggs and been satisfied by just having something in his belly, but he was in the mood to do something nice. Not that he usually _wasn't_ , but he'd watched her do this enough that he thought he might could attempt to make it all by himself. So with a surge of confidence he decided that he was going to be the one to make them breakfast that morning.

Namely, _french toast._

Want to talk about a jarring experience? Helga waking up in her own house to the smell of _food_. That never happened. At first, she was sure she was having a stroke. It did smell a vaguely like burnt _toast._ But when she realized Brian was gone, she became more concerned that he'd caught the house on fire attempting to pour a bowl of cornflakes.

Hey, stranger things had happened. Her entire life was a strange one at that point.

She didn't even bother trying to find and collect her previous wardrobe, instead digging out another from her drawers before she hurriedly skipped to the kitchen to find out why she smelt smells she shouldn't have been smelling unless she were responsible.

When she peaked around the corner and over the bar, she saw him standing at the stove, moving a nicely browned piece of french toast onto a plate with a pair of tongs. The counters were a mess, he'd probably used about thirty bowls, there were a couple burnt to a crisp pieces set to the side, it was a right disaster. _But_...it seemed like he had actually pulled it off, "You could have woken me up you know," She teasingly quipped with a smirk, prompting him to snap his head around, smiling as he turned off the burner.

Brian shrugged, "You always make us breakfast," And every other meal.

"Wasn't that part of the deal? I feed you...you give me purpose and open up tight jars or some crap like that?" She teased, biting her lip as walked up beside him.

"I thought it would be nice," He chuckled, never taking his eyes off of her as she approached and began taking a look at his handy work. She was rather impressed with just how much he'd really been paying attention to what she had been showing him.

"It's very nice. Looks good too," She looked back up at him, "Look at you, all grown up."

Brian smirked, "I'm a big boy now," He jokingly announced while grabbing the plates and taking them to where they sat at the bar.

* * *

 **Week Later.**

Helga hadn't completely escaped their adventures in babysitting unscathed either. It may have put Brian's own feelings into clearer view for him, but it put hers into a tailspin of confusion and polite anger. Mostly, she couldn't get her mind off of the prevailing question that she had had for some _months_ by then. She had already gone as far as to ask him out right at the cabana club the night they went salsa dancing, though she _had_ been partly joking.

Which he admitted his terrible taste in women.

There _had_ to be more to it though.

Her mind was beginning to feel like a room full of FBI agents with a white board full of questions with connections to different people that needed thorough interrogation.

How the hell was Brian Miller _still_ on the market?! How had it come to what it was?! He was a great guy! Though to be fair, she'd never thought that he _wasn't_ a great guy. She'd known him for over twenty years after all. She just had really come to appreciate what a _good_ partner he was, what a _good_ husband he was and by that point, after co-sitting with him, what a _good_ father he would make too.

All things any girl could _ever_ want when looking for a guy! What gave?!

It pissed her off, and she really didn't even know _why_. It was their loss, her gain she supposed but that made her even _more_ angry...and, if she were being honest, _sad._

Her frustration had privately consumed her through almost an _entire_ pedicure outing with Phoebe, and she hadn't even really realized just how much silent brooding over it she'd been doing until her best friend asked, "What's got you in such tangles?"

"Huh?" Helga blinked out of her trance like state and looked over at her friend, whose eyebrows merely rose up her forehead in an extended silent question. "Uh...just...have a lot on my mind."

"Such as?"

"Like...trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with Brian."

Now, Phoebe would liked to have said that she was surprised by such a statement, but considering that it was _Helga_ , who had herself in a peculiar civil union with a mutual friend, she didn't even bat an eye. In fact, she was _dying_ to hear where this would go. "Explain."

Helga sighed, acting as if she didn't want to talk about it, mean while wasting no time in starting to talk about it, "He's actually great. Not that I didn't think he wasn't or anything but, you know, living on top of somebody will tell you _a lot_ about them."

"Yes," Phoebe quirked an eyebrow. Maybe her friend _had_ officially gone mad.

"He's attentive, helpful, caring...good with kids. Like A+ husband material here."

"... _yeah._ "

"So what I'm trying to figure out is...how not one—not _one_ —of the girls he's dated prior didn't want to lock that whole package down _immediately._ " Yes, written in giant letters on her brain FBI white board. Phoebe had been prepared to reply, but found herself snapping her mouth shut when Helga went on with, "I mean did you know—no of course you wouldn't, he would have no reason to tell y—anyway right before your stock the bar party, he walked in on that girl he was dating having sex with another _guy._ Like how could anybody do that to somebody like him? How could anybody do that _period_ but _especially_ to somebody like him?!"

"Ew..." Phoebe grimaced.

"I know!" Helga soundly agreed, finding herself pissed at something that happened over five years ago, "I'm trying to find his fatal flaw, but I'm striking out."

"He's always had interesting taste in women."

"Yeah well...he's admitted _that much_."

"He's been kind of a see-saw really. He's seemed to either go for girls who were extremely clingy, or ones that were so independent that a guy was just an accessory to them," Phoebe pointed out something she'd noticed quite a few years ago herself. Brian seemed to have ever been able to find a sweet spot.

Helga seemed to consider that for a moment, agreeing with her friend's rather astute observation. "That's actually a good analogy."

"He just kind of seems like he's had a hard time finding a good balance."

The blonde sighed and shook her head, "But there has to be something more to it. I mean, I am what I am...so there's no secret as to why nothing has ever worked out for me, but nobody has _that_ lousy of a batting average and it _not_ be their fault... _right?_ "

"Not necessarily," Phoebe shrugged.

"Great..." Helga let go of a disappointed sigh, "That makes me feel like crap. Am _I_ making him settle for a fake marriage with my emotionally broken self when he could be happy if he just _looked_ a little harder?"

Phoebe wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn't. The irony of the situation was so thick one would choke on it. When she'd initially pegged the two as actually being pretty good for one another, she'd just left it to be a funny happenstance. However, the more she watched it, the more she was beginning to think that Helga was actually Brian's _somebody._ The two were the opposite side of the same damn coin, but her dear friend was still too dug into the idea Arnold to open her eyes all the way. She was squinting for sure, but Phoebe seriously wanted to yell at her most of the time, "Well...maybe he wasn't this guy _at all_ with them. I'm not saying that he's _changed_ necessarily but, perhaps he's just never had a good conduit for himself. Does that make sense?"

The blonde laughed a little sardonically, "Are you suggesting that I, _somehow,_ might bring out the best in him?"

Yes, that was exactly what Phoebe was attempting to say. "I'm saying that it's possible you strike a good balance with each other and that's why you're getting what you're getting. People who...work well with one another are going to grow more into the individual they _want_ to be. In other words, maybe it wasn't _everybody else_ that was missing out." Lord help her, she was going to get that girl to see some reason if it were the last thing she did.

But Helga, ever reluctant to change, shook her head, waving her friend's absurdities off. She was also, more confused than ever about what Brian Miller's deal _still_ was.

* * *

 **Game Night.**

They had been to many game nights since officially becoming a _'couple'_ in the eyes of their friends. Up until that point, every game they had played had been a group effort type situation. But that night was one of the rare couple centric games, and Helga and Brian felt a little out of their element with it if they were being honest.

It was only the game Taboo, but they didn't have the deep connection, supported by years being with each other that their friends had that tended to arise with games like these. Again, it was a simple game that could be played with anybody, and they were probably thinking too hard about it.

Helga had had a few glasses of wine, and Brian a few beers to lessen the anxiety of probably flailing at the evening. It was what it was, it wasn't like anybody was going to begin being suspicious of them if they didn't do well. No, those degenerates would do what they had been doing the whole time. Laugh about their newlywed status and then go into a story about how things would be X amount of years later.

Rinse and repeat.

So that's where they found themselves, gathered in Rhonda and Curly's living room, watching their friends take their turns at the game.

"Uh...it's on the side of a river..." Sheena riddled, looking over to her husband.

"A shore?" Sid asked.

Sheena rolled her eyes, "A shore?! No on the side of the _river_."

"A landing? A beach?"

"Oh my God...where your paycheck goes!"

"...our account?"

Sheena threw her hands up in exacerbation as Rhonda yelled "Time!", alerting them that their turn was over. "A bank!" She lo-key yelled at Sid, whose eyes got extremely wide.

"A bank! God...how did I miss that?" He sighed, kicking himself. To be fair, he was probably one too many beers into the evening too.

"Alright, Miller's, you're up."

Harold started snickering, "Can't do any worse than Sid."

"Eh, can-it Berman," Helga jokingly quipped as she grabbed the card distributor and sat back down and pulled one, waiting for Rhonda to give her the go ahead.

"Go."

Helga looked at it, seeing the word _'chapstick'._ Simple enough, but the first thing she thought was... "Lodged between the wall and the back of my nightstand." And she _immediately_ regretted saying it aloud. God they were going to fail so hard. He was _never_ going to remember setting it down three nights ago, it tipping over and rolling back against the wall. Never! She was the only weirdo that would think that way.

But Brian's eyebrow raised for a split second before he surprised her with, "Chapstick." before she could backtrack.

"Yeah..." His wife nodded, catching his eye, smirking and opting to just go with it versus sitting around, acting surprised that they could both speak weirdo description. She pulled a second card, _'Foot',_ "Cramp that got you out of bed the other night."

"Feet? Foot."

"Yep," A third card, _'Scrambled Eggs',_ "The only thing besides cereal you knew how to cook."

"Eggs?"

"Close..."

"Scrambled eggs."

"Yep," A fourth card, ' _King',_ "Upgraded our bed to this size."

"King."

A fifth card, _'Hot',_ "You complain that I always make the water this."

"Hot."

A sixth card, _'Jeans',_ "Your sexy, holey, weekend wear."

"...jeans."

A seventh card, _'Homework',_ "I had to regrade these after you the other night because you gave everybody 'A's' so they'd think I'm cool."

"Homework."

An eighth card, ' _Skyscraper,_ ' Helga laughed at that one, "Okay, you jokingly told me I was into this type of guy once."

Brian's eyes thinned a little as he had to really think hard on that one, but he finally hearkened back to their pro-con list night and snorted in laughter, "A skyscraper."

"Time!" Rhonda yelled.

The rest of the gang sat and just kind of stared at them for a moment before Eugene of all people said, "Damn..."

"The hell was that?" Gerald agreed.

"Quiet Sexwhale."

"It appears we have a new leader."

"Eat it, you merry band of savages." Helga laughed before standing up, intending to go grab herself a wine refill.

As she rounded the couch, Brian turned, hurriedly downing the last little bit of his beer before holding it out, "Hey...baby," He beckoned after her. Helga stopped, not sure if she had heard that correctly or not. Brian knew what he'd accidentally done the minute it flew out of his mouth, but there wasn't nothing he could do at that point, except pretend he _didn't_ notice, "Do you mind grabbing me another one?" She decided to let it go. It _probably_ wasn't intended.

* * *

 **Wednesday.**

Helga had been willing to accept that Brian's week long absence before Christmas, and her ensuing bout of, what did they call it?— _feels_ —had been a one time thing, driven solely by how spoiled she'd become by getting some attention whenever she wanted it. Her sex drive was an ungrateful brat who didn't appreciate just how good she had it with him.

Or so she'd _assumed._ She'd also quickly forgotten all the moping and existential life questions that arose the moment he came back home, choosing to never again revisit such a needy part of personality. Of course she hadn't given one single thought to the idea that he might _travel_ again at some point. He was a pilot for crying out loud. No, of _course_ she hadn't thought that far ahead.

And really, it was expected. When it came to emotions and feelings, she was a sweep it under the rug type of girl.

So there she found herself all alone for another _entire_ week, once again revisiting the anxiety and confusion that had plagued her the first time.

She really _was_ getting into him. And she had groaned to the heavens about it on more than one occasional over the last few days. It just wasn't _possible._

Yet, she really had no other explanation for it. She couldn't explain why she felt out of sorts when he was gone, why she found herself worrying about him—as if she didn't _already_ trust planes any further than she could spit—or why she felt the need to talk to him every single day for as long as possible, or the sleeplessness, and the stress snacking. And then it got real weird when she started thinking about a scenario of him _meeting_ somebody while he was away, coming back home, dropping their safe word on her and vamoosing.

Of course she still believed that he had some fatal flaw somewhere, and as far as she was concerned, it was _hers_ to find. So bitches beware. Also, who was he suppose to meet? They were thirty! Trying to meet someone at that point was like trying to grocery shop after the store had been raided before a major blizzard. Pickings were slim.

It was ridiculous. _She_ was ridiculous.

Still, she found herself slipping closer and closer to that existential crisis that signaled her entire belief system had officially _collapsed._

* * *

 **South California.**

He was tired, he was hungry and it was late. Only 9:00, but late to be procuring a meal. The pack of cougars, a gang of mid-fifties single ladies—several with impressive divorce settlements from their wealthy ex-husbands, including the plane he was flying—had opted to leave Vegas—the first leg of their annual girls week—later than previously anticipated.

So there he was, heading down to the hotel restaurant and bar after calling in a burger and fries for pick-up. Thankfully their kitchen was open pretty late, or it would have been vending machines, or whatever else was in walking distance for him.

It wasn't too crowded, it literally only being him and one other young woman at the opposite end of the bar. "I had a pick-up order for Miller," Brian told the bar tender as she slid onto the stool.

"It'll be about five minutes or so. Care for anything while you wait?"

"Nah, I'm good," He shook his head.

In his wait, it took the opportunity to look around at the place, noting that it was indeed, pretty nice looking. It was a very nice hotel they were in. He had faith that the food would be good. But food became Russian roulette after about 8:00pm for some reason, no matter where one went. It was like the hour at which the kitchen staff officially stopped caring.

Bored of looking at everything else, he tilted his head and observed the woman sitting at the other end of the bar from him, surprised to find her eyes steadfastly watching him as she was running her finger around the rim of her martini glass. He wasn't really sure _why_ , and being the polite person that he was, he offered a very small smile and a subtle head pop in place of a wave.

For whatever reason, that made her chuckle and take a sip of her drink. Brian assumed that was the end of it, but she nodded back at him. Not in a return wave either but as an invitation to come down there.

Well, _that_ escalated quickly.

Obviously, he wasn't the slightest bit of interest in doing that. He wasn't dumb, he knew she wasn't interested in just bored chatting with a stranger. He figured she was _probably_ more drunk than she looked, or lonely or...who knew. It didn't really _matter_. He _wasn't_ interested. He gave her a polite smile before holding up his left hand and pointing to his ring finger in an effort to wordlessly say, _'No thanks, I'm married.'_ Though it would have been much easier to get that across if he actually had a _ring._

He thought that, that would be the end of it, but he was absolutely floored when she held up her own left hand, flashing her own wedding band at him.

"Here you go sir," The bartender plopped a brown bag down in front of him. Brian just shook his head at this woman, glad to be grabbing his food and _leaving._

He took the elevator back up to his room and slunk into the table and chair to devour his burger. A few bites in he pulled out his phone and called Helga, putting her on speaker phone as he continued eating. He'd been dying to talk to her all day by then, and desperately hoped that she wasn't already asleep.

 _"Why are you calling me at this hour?"_ She answered.

"Damn, girl..." He chuckled.

 _"I'm kidding. What are you doing?"_

"Eating."

 _"Eating what?"_

"A burger."

 _"Any good?"_

"Uh...yeah surprisingly for something to have been gotten so late," He grabbed for a couple fries, "What are you doing?"

 _"Watching TV...about to go get in bed actually."_

"What you watching?"

 _"My 600lb life."_

Brian snorted, "Really?"

 _"It's ridiculous. I haven't been able to stop watching."_

"So," He swallowed he last of his burger, "You'll never guess what just happened to me?"

 _"While you were getting food?"_

"Yeah...I had this weird chick at the bar hit on me."

 _"Yeah?"_ Helga's voice sounded generally intrigued, _"Have you never been harassed at a bar?"_ She then asked with an air of laughter in her voice.

"No, I mean _yes_ , but never like _this_. So I'm waiting for my food, and she's like _way_ at the other end, and is just staring at me the entire time I'm waiting. I smile, she then _nods_ for me to come over. So I point to my left ring finger to say, hey...not interested. Married. And then she flashes her _own_ wedding ring back at me."

 _"Wow...that was a plot twist."_

Brian found himself rubbing his thumb over his left ring finger, ever reminded of how he _really_ needed to get the ball rolling with his ring plans. If nothing else, he was ready to have some physical statement to advertise that he was one hundred percent _off_ the market. And _happily_ so. Not that it would have deterred bar woman that night, but he thought that it was at least a respectful gesture. Of course it was a lot more than that to him, "I know...some people. It was very strange...and...sad I guess too."

 _"Or...it could be the beginning of an urban legend,"_ She jokingly suggested, her voice sounding more relieved, " _I wonder how many kidneys she's stolen."_

"You would suggest something so outrageous," He laughed, "When likely, she was just after my sexy dad bod."

 _"Oh, sure. That's it."_

"I've said repeatedly, it's what women really want, they just don't want to admit it."

 _"Yep, it's a giant conspiracy. Hold on."_ Helga said, and there was a brief silence on the phone before he heard scuffling, _"Alright. Sorry. Getting ready for bed."_

" _Oh_...what you wearing?"

He couldn't see it, but he could hear the eye roll in her voice, _"Really?"_

"Let me guess. Probably that pair of nylon shorts you've been into lately, and that tee shirt that has the small rip right above your belly button am I close?"

Helga snorted, _"You forgot the socks."_

"Of course. Can't let your little feeties get cold."

 _"Nope."_

* * *

 **Day later.**

Once again, she also found herself in the company of her best friend while reeling through one of her internal battles, though she tried not to be as obvious about it as she had been before. They'd both made some small talk until their appetizer arrived. Helga was quick to dig in too, "This is amazing," She admitted, two bites into the bruschetta.

"I told you I heard this place was great," Phoebe replied in a told-you-so type of voice, deservedly so after Helga fought her about trying something new.

"Seriously though, might be the best bruschetta I've ever had. We should have come here ages ago."

Phoebe just rolled her eyes, quietly chuckling to herself, "So how's another week without Brian been?"

"Eh...it's...going," She couldn't fake enthusiasm with it, which meant Phoebe's spidey sense were going to go into high alert. Why did she even _have_ to ask? Why did she have to be such a good friend and care about her well being?!

And she was right, Phoebe's dark brow raised over her black rimmed glasses in curiosity, "Uh oh." She said, liking to give Helga enough rope to hang herself with. She really became a talker if she thought she were the one opening up first.

Helga gave her a kind of wishy-washy, non-verbal response before shoving some more of that appetizer in her mouth to buy herself a little time, "I just feel...I don't know...I feel off kilter. Like my routine is off...when he's gone. It's weird."

Her friend's facial expression deadpanned, "So...you miss him?"

"No."

"Sounds like you do."

Helga sighed, "Okay, yes I do."

"Then...what's the problem?"

"I don't _like_ that I do."

Phoebe rolled her eyes. The depths of Helga's ridiculousness found new, and admittedly impressive bottoms every day, "Why?"

"Because it's...it's twice now and I know that means I have some feels...and...and it's not possible for me to catch feels so I'm probably just going crazy."

"Yeah...I'd say the crazy boat sailed a bit ago," Phoebe snorted, letting one of her rare zingers fly.

"Okay..."

"Awhile ago actually."

" _Okay!_ "

"Wait, you said twice now. What happened when he was gone last time?"

Helga shrugged, reaching up and playing with the cloth napkin sitting in front of her, "I...moped, played cool, talked to my ceiling fan, took out my wrath on my student's papers, stress ate a few packs of Oreos, and then practically jumped him when he got home because I couldn't stop myself...well I _tried_ because—oh it's beside the point." She purposefully held back her weird fear of him meeting somebody while away, before she could find his fatal flaw and claim it has hers. She didn't care to hear what Phoebe would have to say about that level of depravity. "I feel the _exact_ same way again and...I am so confused on the inside right now."

"I'm confused by you too."

"You know...I just don't remember you always being so full of witty one liners."

"Have you met my husband?"

"Fair enough."

"So...I guess its safe to say everything has been... _good_ between you two?" Phoebe gave her a look, conveying the more private meaning behind her question. She wasn't nosy by any means, but by that point she was very used to Helga dishing about the shortcomings of _every_ man she'd dated. _Especially_ in the bedroom. She wasn't a talker when it came to private matters, but she couldn't resist _complaining._ The fact that she hadn't heard anything, not a single gripe, was _especially_ peculiar to her at that point. But if she had to guess, there were probably a few clues there that she could use to help her wayward friend connect some dots. But, when she watched her friend sigh and drop her head into her hand, she fully expected the worst.

Which _further_ confused her.

"Yeah..." Helga ran her hand down her face, "Everything's been good... _great_. In fact, I'm having the best sex of my life right now and I _hate_ it." Phoebe didn't immediately have any good reply to that. Only thing she could do was blink and stare, completely dumbfounded. Only Helga could find something like that, a _bad_ thing. Luckily her friend clarified with, "I mean...I don't _hate_ it...it's amazing. I just don't see how it's _possible_ with a guy who I married out of boredom...and as an excuse not to get a cat...or two...or twelve."

"Maybe because you guys have been friends for such a long time?" Phoebe suggested. She wanted to yell at her, _It's because he is actually just your type! Everything! The whole caboodle!_ But obviously that wouldn't have been received _at all_ , much less _well_.

So tiptoeing it was.

"I knew Arnold for a long time too," Helga pointed out, only succeeding in furthering the mindbogglingly aspect of it all. It obviously _wasn't_ the reason. If it had been, they'd be on the same playing field, but as it was, what she and Brian had going on, put _everything_ she'd had with Arnold to absolute _shame_. God...and it hurt her soul a little to admit that too.

"So...what's different then?"

Yet again, Helga gave a shrug that came solely from the depths of her chronic befuddledness, "I don't know. It's easy I guess." Much easier than she thought it would be, that was for sure. "I feel like we have this good balance of playfulness and intensity. Nothing feels forced. Plus, he is a bit spontaneous and it's kind of a breath of fresh air. It's just...weird to be so in-tune with somebody that I don't..." She trailed off and took a breath. She wanted to say _'have feelings for'_ , but that was a lie, no matter how much she was trying to convince herself that she was in the early stages of dementia.

Should it have been so easy to start... _forgetting_ Arnold?

It wasn't possible. It was dementia.

"You know what I think? I think it's time for you to stop fighting this and just go with the flow," Phoebe politely, but curtly suggested, "One minute, you're mad at his past girlfriends for not appreciating him, the next, you're trying to find every reason _not_ to appreciate him. You're thinking yourself into circles."

"Yeah, yeah..." Helga waved her friend off, giving a soft roll of the eyes to show her disinterest.

Phoebe was undeterred by her friends affront, and she had been for twenty-five years at that point, "There are _going_ to be some feelings that arise! Those feelings are going to translate into a connection of some kind! So you are getting a little into him? That's okay. You miss him when he's gone? That's normal. You're having great sex with him? That's a _good_ problem to have. Stop _fighting_ life so much. It's _exhausting_ to watch."

"I...I'm not fighting it," Helga meekly insisted, fighting it.

"You fight everything."

"No I don't."

"You fought me about coming to _this_ restaurant."

"Well, I like what I like."

"You just said that was one of the best appetizers you've ever had, and we should have come here ages ago!"

* * *

 **Friday.**

Helga still didn't believe she was actively _fighting_ anything, but she agreed to take her friends advice and just...go with the flow, and go with those new... _feelings_ she had. God how weird that was. It was like working a muscle she didn't even know she had. Or at least hadn't used in forever.

She couldn't on good faith say she _wasn't_ happy when she was with Brian. And maybe none of the other crap mattered but _that_.

Thankfully she wouldn't have anymore time to overthink. Yep, today was the day that her skulking around the house, lonely and frustrated like a widow of a missing ship captain came to an official _end._ She had no way of knowing if he'd be home earlier than he said, but she was anticipating him by at least 7:00pm. It was closer to 7:30 by the time she heard his truck pull up out front, which actually worked out well, because dinner had just finished coming together.

Her happy mood boiled over and into a playful nature that had her skipping to the other side of the wall of the foyer, intending to scare him, like she'd done before. And he'd done to her—of course unintentionally—last time he'd gotten home. She heard him walk through the door, she heard him taking off his coat, the clank of him setting his keys on the apothecary and then, "Helga?" He asked aloud and she noted the air of excitement in her voice.

She of course, said nothing, still intending to scare him. The floor creaked as he began walking down the foyer, turning to walk into the kitchen, which was the perfect opportunity for her to slink up behind him and playfully jab him in the sides with both her index fingers, " _Boo._ " He jumped and spun around, swatting a little at her, smiling though as he did, "Got you."

"What was that? Payback?" Brian asked, reaching out and trying to sneak a tickle on a few of her unprotected ribs, but she was a little quicker at fending him off.

"Maybe," She smirked up at him before wrapping her arms around him, burying her head into his chest.

Brian draped his own arms around her before swaying a little bit before smirking, "You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say y—"

"—I missed you okay. _Sheesh._ "

* * *

 **Ski trip.**

They both had been looking forward to this day since Christmas morning. Technically Helga had been looking forward to it since she booked it. Brian's Christmas gift, aka their _long_ awaited vacation in Aspen Colorado. Five solid days of skiing, relaxation and hopefully great food. Brian had more plans in mind than just _that._ Seeing as it was a vacation, hopefully that would morph into being very romantic in nature, which he was _very_ in favor of, he thought it might also be the perfect time to present her the rings.

It was time to pull the trigger. _Again._ And for real this time.

He felt more confident about it. For starters their relationship was really feeling more serious. Much more than on Christmas. He was sure it wasn't just him imagining it that way either. But if he didn't get the reaction he wanted, he could pretend that it was an impulsive buy after getting hit on at the bar by that married girl.

He hid them well in his book bag before they hit the road and hit the air. Now Helga would have been perfectly fine with catching a commercial flight there, just for the sake of simplicity. It was a _vacation_ after all. Why do _any_ work. But suggesting such had been practically blasphemy, and she supposed she should have figured much, being married to a pilot and all. Brian insisted on flying them, and wouldn't have it any other way. So, once again, she found herself in millionaire Frank's personal jet, sipping champagne and reliving the last time they had commandeered the aircraft.

And she did mean _relive._

That poor man had no idea that his plane was being used as the ultimate aphrodisiac. Or maybe he did, and that's why he agreed to let Brian borrow it again.

Either way, it was a _nice_ flight.

* * *

They touched down in Aspen after several hours, stored the plane for the week, grabbed their 4x4 rental and headed up the steep mountain road, following the GPS to their cabin for the week.

Helga was excited...and nervous. She'd never booked anything that wasn't a hotel before so she was extremely concerned it wouldn't be as great as advertised. It seemed like they were driving forever, but it was really only because of the snow and the narrowness of the road. When they finally turned off into a widened driveway Brian was the first to say, "Holy smokes..." His wife was as equally in awe as well. She was fearful it wouldn't live up to it's online sales pitch, she'd shopped for homes once, she knew how deceptive picture editing could be, but never did she imagine it would look even better.

Two story, rustic style, garage underneath, tall glass windows that let in as much light imaginable. It was _far_ from a ski trip, camping cabin. It was somebody's—well out of their pay grade—vacation home.

"This is unbelievable..." Brian's dismayed voice said as they pulled to a stop in front of one of the garage doors.

"Crimeny, who needs to ski when you live in something this amazing?" Helga chuckled.

They exited the car and headed up the steps to the front door, where one of those digital locks were built into the grandious doors. Helga punched in the code she had been emailed and they stepped into their home-away-from-home for the next five days.

If they thought the outside weren't amazing enough, the inside blew their minds. Modern everything, giant fireplace, completely smart at that. As in, everything in the place could be controlled by a central tablet that they found sitting on the kitchen bar with a note, explaining it's use.

"This is too real," Brian chuckled.

Helga also chortled, "Impressed yet?"

They left the kitchen and walked to the mountain side of the house and stared out the floor to ceiling length windows at the view of the entire mountain. Breath taking really. "You're right...forget skiing, we're just going to lounge for the entire five days."

"Sounds good to me," She agreed, "I guess we should check out the upstairs."

"Jeez, I'm already overwhelmed," Brian teased as he skipped to the staircase and they trotted up.

As predicted, the master bedroom was the nicest thing either had ever seen. "Unbelievable. I'll never be able to stay in a hotel again." Brian shook his head, before walking to the bathroom. Amazing bathroom, of course, "Hey Helga, come look at this bath tub."

Helga walked up behind him and peaked around. It was official, she'd died and gone to heaven, "Now _that_...is a bath bomb tub."

"You could host a dinner party in here."

Helga nodded, "We could literally have game night... _just_ in this bathroom." Prying herself away, she walked over to the french doors that lead to the balcony and an amazing view. "And wait...there's more!" She chuckled, rolling her eyes as she smiled, looking out the french doors that led to the balcony, "Built in hot tub," She turned and thumbed to it.

"Oh...that'll be fun," Brian walked over to check it out.

"Are you kidding? This whole _place_ is going to be fun."

Her husband gave a short chuckle before pulling her into a hug, "You really went above and beyond with this."

"Yeah, you know...they took good pictures and all," She played it off as no big deal. In fact she'd spent hours on the entire gift, checking and double checking everything.

"It must have cost a fortune for the week."

"A little. I'm surprised you never noticed."

"Eh," Her husband casually shrugged, "I never look at our account. I just trust that there is money in it."

"You live life _very_ dangerously."

Smiling, Brian gave her a quick peck on the lips before pulling away, "I know. I'm going to go bring our stuff in."

After Helga watched him go she walked over to the giant canopy bed, falling backwards onto and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh that was followed with a smile. "Oh my God..." It was the softest bed she'd ever laid on. Ever. It was official. They were staying there forever. Like...literally, she was being cradled by a cloud.

She laid there for a good little while in her cloud bliss before, "Brian!" She called, beckoning for him to come up and experience this magical bed with her. However, she got zero response and it shouldn't have been taking him that long to get everything in. They hadn't brought _that_ much stuff. She was really comfortable though. Especially after being on a plane for too many hours.

But then she heard music start playing loudly downstairs, that peaked her interest enough to compel her to go check it out. David Bowie from the sound of it, though she couldn't name the song. She knew popular songs, he knew everything else. He obviously was playing with the house tablet.

When she skipped downstairs she saw their bags and ski gear in the middle of the floor. Brian was in the kitchen, jiving to the groove as he unpacked the alcohol and snacks that they'd brought—the one perk of flying private—for the week.

Helga leaned against the kitchen doorway, crossing her arms as she observed him with a side smirk, "Hey...Ziggy Stardust!" She called over the music.

Brian smoothly spun around, smiling as he began shuffling to her, singing, "Some of these days, and it won't be long, gonna drive back down where you once belonged, in the back of a dream car twenty foot long, don't cry, my sweet, don't break my heart," He grabbed her hands, prying them from their crossed posture, attempting to get her to dance with him.

She resisted, as usual, but held onto his hands as she attempted to pull him backwards out of the kitchen, "You've got to come check out this bed."

Her husband's eyebrow popped up and he started chuckling as he allowed himself to be towed away by her, "Wow...you're not even trying with pickup lines anymore are you?"

"I was under the assumption that once married, I no longer had to devote energy into being clever anymore," She rolled her eyes, still smiling of course as she dragged him up the stairs, "For real though, this is the softest thing I've ever laid on."

Once back in the master bedroom, Helga jumped back onto the bed and anxiously waited for him to lay down on it too. Brian looked very unamused. He'd slept in a lot of beds over the years from traveling, so he didn't believe he would be all that impressed by it, but whatever, he'd _humor_ her.

Walking to the end he dramatically fell backwards onto it and just laid there for a second before..."Oh my God..." His eyes widened.

"Right?!"

Okay, she was right. It _might_ have been the softest thing he'd ever laid on. "I...don't think I can move now."

* * *

 **Day 2**

Breakfast, coffee, mimosas,— _because vacation_ —slopes. Did they mention that they had the best night sleep _ever_ in the wonder bed? Cause they did. The slopes were conveniently one single mile _exactly_ from their dapper house. Like it was almost a pain to throw everything in the SUV to drive such a short distance. But, whatever, they did, paid, got their tags for the week and hit the powder.

"So what...like green circle slopes for you?" Brian teased as he and Helga slide into the ski lift line for the first time, preparing to officially start their first day.

Helga stopped adjusting her goggles to fit her head and made to stare at him through a pair of very thin eyelids, "Keep on and you're going to get this nice pole shoved up your ass."

Brian chuckled, rolling his eyes, "All bark and no bite, and you know it," He grinned at her, finding her incredibly adorable that morning with her hair all french braided back to stay out of her face. Of course she really slathered on the adorable when she tried to get feisty with her idle threats of brutal harm. He wanted to reach out and pinch her cheek.

He probably would have if he hadn't been wearing gloves and was admittedly not in the mood for a ski pole up his derriere.

"I probably need to get warmed up with some blue square level trails before we hit a black diamond though," Helga quipped, on a serious note as they stepped up and let the lift scoop them into the seat.

Brian closed the bar over them as they began heading up the mountain. "A warm up sounds like a good idea. I'd probably slide my butt all the way down the black diamond if we hit that first anyway."

"Oh, so what happened to Mr. _I'm Lindsey Vonn I'm so good at skiing?_ " Helga smirked.

"Ah, Mr. and Mrs. _I'm Lindsey Vonn I'm so good at skiing._ It has a nice ring to it but I think people would be _very_ confused."

"Yes they would, after they found out you weren't so good at skiing," Helga teased, biting her lip as she grinned at him.

"I'm a great skier. The _'good'_ in that would be the _only_ confusing part for people," Brian coolly explained, "They'd be like, 'Wha? This guy is kick ass. What's with the underselling sur name?"

"That's what they'd say?"

"Yeah, I think so," Brian laughed before looking off as they were about three fourths of the way up the mountain, "Oh look I can see our house from here."

Helga snorted, rolling her eyes, as she turned to look off where he was currently gazing, "Please I doub—oh...yeah there's our house," She admitted, very surprised to actually see the back of their cabin from there.

"You're something else, you know that?" Brian side eyed her, playfully unamused.

"Yeah, yeah."

A few more minutes went by before they reached their drop off point on the lift, hopping off and scooting over to the start of the intermediate trail. "Ready?" Brian asked as he put his goggles, flashing her a bright white, toothy smile.

"No, but I've got to rip the band-aid off," She snorted, putting her own goggles on.

And off they were, bobbing and cutting their way down the trail. Helga was rusty, but it was like riding a bike in a lot of ways. Reactivating old muscle groups that still knew exact what to do and such. Rusty or not, Brian really was a great skier, having more years under his belt that she did and probably ever would. Had to love all those normal family vacations that she never really experienced as a child like he did.

* * *

 **Evening.**

They were tired. And a little sore. But they'd at least had the sense to get off the slopes before they became useless the rest of their vacation. They were hungry too. _Hangry_ really. "Well, what do you want?" Brian asked, the aggravation really starting to seep into his voice as he was starting to feel like they were on a merry-go-round.

"I don't know. I'm just hungry."

"How about that then?" He pointed to a random burger joint as they rolled on through town. He was about to eat the stirring wheel if she dragged it out any longer.

Helga grimaced a little. She didn't know what she wanted, but she knew she didn't want a burger, "I don't know if I'm in the mood for burgers."

At that, her husband sighed loudly and threw his head back against the headrest, "You just said you didn't care!"

"Well, it's not my fault you suggested the one thing I didn't want!" She snapped back at him, immediately feeling a little bad about it. They were both tired and hungry, and lo-key fighting over food. Literally one of the only serious arguments they had ever had at that point, and it was being had on the vacation of the year. Helga turned, and made to stare out the window in annoyance when she saw and hopping little place, "What about pizza?" She thumbed out the passenger window.

Brian turned and looked, seeing a pile of people in it, his stomach growling harder at the thought of _waiting._ "I'm sure it's good, but look at all those people. The wait will be forever." She finally suggested something and he shot it down. Without even realizing it. God, he was being just as hard to get along with as she was.

Thankfully she _didn't_ snap back at him, instead shooting him a deadpanned expression before rolling her blue eyes, "I'm sure we can get it to go. _It's pizza."_

"Yeah...you're right," Her husband ran a hand through his hair, putting on the blinker to procure some parking around the corner.

"What was that?" Helga chuckled, putting her hand up as if she were hard of hearing, decidedly tired of arguing. Period. "I was right about something?"

"Keep on and I'll lock you in the car and not crack a window," He cracked a lopsided smile at her as he turned in his seat, backing them into a parking spot.

" _Oh,_ not too famished for the zingers are we?" Helga smirked.

"You bring the best ones out of me."

Brian shut the car off and they both got out, walking in tandem to the pizza place, stepping in and going straight to the counter to procure a to-go pie...and bread-sticks...and wings...and a couple salads. They were doing quite a bit of hunger buying. There was absolutely no way they would eat all of that.

"Alright, we'll text you when your order is ready," The cashier told them.

"How long you think?"

"About 15-20 minutes."

They would have liked to have sat inside and waited, but it was packed, the few waiting chairs they had, full and the rest standing around and waiting for tables to open up. Seeing all of those people wait gave them some hope that the food would be delicious. Neither was in the mood to stand in the crowd of people so they weaved their way back outside to wait in the cold on the sidewalk.

Brian took to his usual activity of looking around at everything. It was a happening place, kicking off the night life. When his eyes fell upon a particular establishment right next door to the pizza place, he nudged Helga, who was flipping through whatever on her phone. When she looked up, she saw him pointing to a dispensary. "Want to go check it out?" He suggested.

Sure, they actually lived in a marijuana friendly state, however all of that industry was located in the larger cities, and neither had ever once visited such. "Might as well," Helga shrugged, pocketing her phone. She was starting to get cold anyway, having not dressed to stand outside for any length of time.

With that, they walked over and stepped into the emporium of curiosity, seeing quite a few people browsing around as well. They had no idea what to expect, but in many ways, they found it to be almost like a souvenir shop as the wandered about, looking at everything. "Is there anything they _can't_ put THC in these days?" Brian pondered aloud, picking up a bottle of lotion and looking it over with an impressed expression.

Helga stood a few feet away from him, looking over the shelves when her eyes too fell upon a curious item, "Apparently _not._ " She chuckled, biting her lip before picking up a tiny bottle and shaking it at him, "Care for some lube?"

"Oh Jeez..." He started laughing, actually blushing a little at it, "What the hell would that do to your junk?"

Helga shrugged, feeling herself get a little warm too, "I have no idea."

"Want to find out?" He then teased, solely just to get a reaction out of her.

"Yeah, I don't think so," She said, putting it back on the shelf as they moved along. "I've never smoked or...I guess ingested weed in my life so...I don't think I'll be starting by putting it all over my lady bits."

Her husband laughed, though he soundly agreed with her, "I've never done it either. I guess I've just never thought about it...or cared."

"Yeah. Alcohol _so_ easy. And legal _everywhere._ "

"Hey, you know who probably would know all about _all_ of these products?"

Helga stopped, shooting him a funny luck with a quirked brow, "Who?"

Brian smirked, "Arnie and Lila."

Helga snorted, rolling her eyes, "Oh my God...I mean...yeah probably."

"What do you mean _'yeah probably'_? Those two are way too good natured about everything. Total stoners. We have this discussion every year."

"Yeah they have a suspicious lack of normal thirty something anxiety. And I don't buy that owning a plant nursery and being vegan is somehow stress free," Helga admitted with a chuckle, thinking back to the their annual discussion by the fire pit during her Halloween party.

"Can I help you guys with anything?" A young man wearing a beanie walked up, smiling brightly.

The pair turned around, briefly exchanging a look before Helga gave a nonchalant nod and Brian shrugged, "Yeah, why not. We're on vacation. What do you have for newbies?"

The dude chuckled and motioned for them to follow him, "Edibles are the most popular. Do you want to relax or feel more energized?"

"Uh...relax?" Brian again looked at his wife.

"Yeah, lets go with relax," Helga stepped in.

"These are my favorite," The guy pointed to a package of what on the surface, looked like a pair of Reese's cups. "They aren't crazy strong, but I would recommend splitting one for a first time."

Brian picked up the package and looked it over, "So you'll just get...real chill?"

"Oh yeah man," The dude nodded, "Are you guys skiing?"

"All week."

"Yeah, it's really nice for achy muscles after a long day on the slopes."

He again looked at Helga. "You want to?"

* * *

Brian and Helga stood at the island in their fancy kitchen, the pizza, wings, bread-sticks and salad all open, along with one of their 'Reese's' cups, that had split in half, sitting on a napkin while Brian read the very brief and vague instructions on the back of the package.

"Say's it takes up to an hour to kick in."

"So...eat it now?" Helga asked as she slid a piece of pizza onto her plate.

Her husband shrugged, setting the package down and reaching for one of the halves, "Might as well. Should be enough time for us to eat and go put on a movie," Per the advice of dispensary dude. "Taste good," It didn't taste like anything other than a chocolate peanut butter cup.

Helga grabbed the other half and popped it in her mouth, nodding, "Yeah...that's amazing," She said after swallowing.

Brian slid a few slices onto his plate before sucking down a few of the wings and then cramming a bread stick into his mouth, "I don't even know why I got that salad."

"I don't know why you did either," She shook her head, forking a little bit of her own salad into her mouth, "You never eat salads."

"I was hunger buying."

"I know you were."

"What time you want to hit the slopes tomorrow?"

"Whenever I _feel_ like it." Helga smirked.

"Oh, so I don't get any say?"

"Happy wife happy life. Ever heard of it?"

Brian snorted, "Even on vacation?"

" _Especially_ on vacation," She grabbed for a bread-stick and tore it in half, "Don't worry Lindsay, you'll get _plenty_ of time on the powder."

"Aren't you cute," Her husband grabbed a few more wings, "I saw there is a Jazz restaurant in town. We should hit that up for dinner one night."

"I've never been to a Jazz anything. Or listened to Jazz period."

"You uncultured swine," Her husband teasingly chastised.

" _Whoa_..." Helga started laughing, "That escalated quickly."

"Jazz is like the international music of love making."

"Oh, is it?"

Brian nodded as matter-of-factly, "Yes...yes it is. Smooth Jazz anyway."

"What...like in the seventies?"

Her husband rolled his eyes, "No not in the seventies. Now. It's timeless."

"Whatever. You don't have the chest hair for such nonsense anyway," She winked as she shoved a piece of pizza in her mouth.

His hand crept up and began rubbing across his chest as he eyeballed her with a smirk, "Hey, I get a few more each year."

"Oh boy," Helga un-enthusiastically replied with a grin, "I like not being married to a grizzly bear, _thank you_ , and I'd like to keep it that way."

"So if I'd had a crazy amount of body hair, you would have safe worded me right away?"

Helga snorted and rolled her eyes, "I already knew you didn't. I'd seen you in a bathing suit."

"Yeah that's true."

"But yeah, if you had, I would have been out. Immediately. Irreconcilable differences. Forever alone."

"Well you know, I felt the same way about girls who hog beds, but I pushed through it and here we are."

"Yeah, yeah."

They knew, good and well, that nowhere _near_ an hour of time had elapsed as they ate. Maybe thirty minutes, _tops_ , but what they failed to take into account, was that they had eaten those cups on a _very_ empty stomach.

Brian found himself beginning to laugh as he tried to devour his nth slice of the night. Compelled to laugh. For no reason. There wasn't anything funny either.

"What?" Helga stared at him, not totally realizing that she was having a hard time not smiling by that point. Like the muscles in her cheeks had a mind of their own.

Her husband shook his head, "I don't...know," He started laughing again, "I just...I don't know what's funny."

That was when she too realized that she starting to feel a little floaty. "I think I'm kind of starting to feel it."

"Yeah, me too!" He leaned down, once again laughing his head off before calming himself, straightening and staring up at the ceiling with his hands on his hips while taking a huge, calming breath, "Oh... _wow_ this is weird."

"I think we should go get that movie started," Helga leaned heavily against the counter, feeling her body go from light as a feather to feeling like she had weights in all of her tingling limbs. Brian started laughing again, and then she started laughing at him laughing.

It was becoming a train-wreck really quick.

Brian nodded before grabbing the pizza and slowly following her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to their room. Upstairs he set the box on the end of the bed before falling onto the mattress face first, slowly flipping over and holding his arms in the air, "Oh shit...I'm like tingling all over."

Helga crawled onto the bed, beginning to feel those infectious type laughs that had grabbed a hold of him take hold of her. Collapsing back onto the pillows she ran her hands over her face, "This is...this is so crazy," She barely got out between laughs, "The room is...being really weird."

Her husband rolled back over and began slow crawling up to where she was laying, singing in an absurdly deep voice, "Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree, how lovely are you branches!" And it was the most hilarious thing Helga had ever heard in her life. At that moment anyway. He laid down right beside her and sighed loudly, "Ahhh...what...what do you want to watch?"

"Where's the thingy?"

Brian snorted, "Thingy?"

Helga laughed, "For the TV."

"Oh...TV on!" Her husband said loudly, staring at the large TV mounted on the wall as he clapped his hands together.

"That doesn't work."

"Weird...doesn't it _usually_ work?"

Helga shrugged and began slowly fishing around for the remote, finding it in the bedside drawer. She turned it on, navigated into the Netflix app and began browsing before selecting _'Wedding Crashers'._ "This is funny...is your mouth like... _really_ dry?"

"Yeah," Brian started opening and closing his, "Kind of."

Once the movie started, Helga cuddled up to him and tried to get fixated on the TV while she felt herself toggle between feeling light as a feather to heavy, all the while everything seemed to slow down. But she felt like she was hyper-aware of everything in her body.

She'd never felt anything _like_ it.

It was about halfway through the movie, she guessed, when the drug grabbed hold of a different part of her brain. A more _private_ part of her brain. No urge in her life had ever felt so strong. It was _unnatural_ almost. But at the same time, it made her laugh to think about it. "So I'm like..." She got hung up laughing again, "Like...the horniest I've ever been in my _life_ right now." Her husband couldn't even be bothered to pull his red eyes away from the TV screen for that. Surprisingly. And even if he had something to say about it, she went on with, "Crimeny...I _hate_ that word too. Its _so_...stupid."

"Are you?" Brian finally acknowledged her, pulling away from the movie.

" _So_ bad," Helga took a deep breath, attempting to be sexy about it, but tripping into another spat of laughter.

Brian rolled onto his side to face her, grinning stupidly as he watched her cackle. When that died down, she finally leaned in and kissed him, very much wanting him to touch every inch of her because everything felt so _amazingly_ good right then. Of course then he snorted, rolling on his back and laughing hysterically, "Oh my God..." He rubbed his hands down his face, "Have you ever thought about how funny sex actually is?" No. But now that she was, he was right...it was _kind of_ hilarious, "I mean...I just bang a body part...into you and it feels good. Weird right?"

And now she could barely breath she was laughing so hard again. Her abdomen physically _hurt_ from all the laughing. "Why is that... _sexy_?"

"I don't know. It just is."

Helga flipped back over onto her back, catching sight of the TV again, remembering the scene and completely forgetting about her carnal desire, saying, "Oh, I _love_ this part."

* * *

 **Morning.**

Considering just how messed up they had gotten off of a single _'Reese's cup,'_ Helga had fully expected to wake up with some kind of hang-over. After all, that was par the course with alcohol. But, to her _shock_ , she woke up fine. Better than fine. Well rested! It blew her mind. "No wonder Arnie and Lila like this stuff," She found herself muttering on her way to the bathroom.

They had their breakfast and mimosas before hitting the black diamonds for a few hours of downhill fun.

* * *

She probably should have told him that she was done for the day. Or even that they should chill for an hour to rest and then hit it again, but she was a trooper and she was one hundred percent sure that what happened, wouldn't have if she hadn't have been getting fatigued. She literally hadn't skied in years and was hitting the black diamonds like a pro on day two of their trip.

"You ready?"

"Yeah, let's go," She somewhat tiredly replied, though not enough to make her exhaustion apparent.

"After you," Brian gestured with his ski pole.

Helga pushed off, making it her mission to get to the bottom of the trail as quickly as possible, not interested in doing anything fancy, or taking some of the available longer routes to the bottom. And that was working out just fine, until it wasn't. She guessed that they were about halfway through the trail when she went to cut around a bend, well ahead of him, that her legs just buckled and she went sliding.

Problem was, she was so close to the slope edge that the momentum sent her spiraling right off the trail and down thirty feet until a trail below, "Shit!" She screamed, and the only other thing she could do was shut her eyes before she hit.

Poor Brian watched the whole thing in horror. Her hitting her side, sliding and disappearing over an edge with an unknown drop below. "Helga!" He yelled, cutting hard to stop himself before frantically kicking off his skis and running to the ledge. Down below, he saw her on her side not moving and the absolute worst feeling of panic and dread drenched him from top to bottom.

Nothing like he'd ever felt before in his life and it sent him into an almost autopilot like mode.

Helga hadn't been knocked unconscious, but she had been _stunned_ , and just as she turned over and looked up, she saw Brian come over the side, coming to jump down to her, "Brian, no!" He hit the ground, seriously risking injury to himself by doing so. Especially with his ski boots still on.

"Are you okay?" He scrambled to her, "Can you move?"

"Yeah," She pushed up into a sitting position, "I can move everything." Brian nodded, swallowing hard, still looking like a deer caught in headlights. "I'm okay," She re-assured him, "The snow and...this puffy ass ski wear broke my fall." She was probably going to feel it in the morning though.

"What happened up there?"

Helga sighed, "I'm tired and...my legs got tired."

Her husband scowled at her, "You should have told me. We would have gotten off for awhile."

"I know," She went to stand back up, Brian giving her assistance. "I should have, but I thought I could make it down."

"Well, next time, say something. That was...terrifying to watch," He said the last bit in a quieter tone of voice.

"I know."

"Come on, let's get you out of here," He put his arm around her as they began to walk down the path, looking for a spot to hop back on the slope and grab their discarded skis.

"Oh I'm not helpless," She playfully feigned.

* * *

 **Evening**

"Do you think you feel up to going to the Jazz restaurant tonight?"

Helga looked down the couch where she laid sprawled out with her feet on his lap, cat napping and shrugged, "Yeah, that sounds fine. Why?"

"Figured you might be achy is all." He'd felt the need to observe her like a _hawk_ while she took a nap. He had this totally rational fear that she'd actually hit her head when she fell, and had a concussion and would go to sleep and never wake up, and he kind of felt himself start to inwardly hyperventilate just thinking about it.

He didn't think he could deal with something happening to _her._ He didn't even want to _imagine_ it.

His wife chuckled, "I'm tougher than I look," She assured.

"I know," He smiled, before removing himself from the couch, and the ongoing foot massage he'd been giving her to go find his phone, "I'll call and see if they do reservations or anything."

Helga looked over at the giant clock hanging on the wall, seeing it to be getting close to five. Prime eating hour was approaching and the thought alone made her stomach give a petite growl. She slowly pushed herself into the sitting position, knowing that she might as well get up and go start getting ready. They were going _somewhere_ at the very least because she did hear him on the phone in the kitchen.

"Six fifteen," He said, leaning up against the kitchen door frame as he pocketed his phone.

"That's an odd slot."

"I'm just repeating what they told me," He smirked, following her up the stairs.

* * *

"What do you think?" Helga turned once in front of him, showing off her flowy blue number that she'd pegged for the night. She looked amazing. She always looked amazing to him, but she looked unbelievably gorgeous that night. Brian's mouth upturned into a smile that made his eyes squint and twinkle, his insides feeling almost hot from the churning of so many fuzzy feelings.

"Oh, when did you get this?" It was strange to him that he was so aware of her wardrobe. He didn't even remember half of what _he_ owned, but he was well aware of most, if not _all_ of what she had. And he was certain that this was new.

She shrugged, leaning back against the bathroom doorway, "Couple weeks ago."

"I like it. It really makes your eyes pop," He complimented, thinking that that was the first time he'd ever really seen her in something blue. She liked her pinks and reds, and greens, and yellows, and lots of her beloved flannel, but he couldn't recall anything cyan. She'd curled her hair into wavy golden locks. Having been thwarted by baby sitting the last time she tried it, she hoped that that evening wouldn't get rerouted into pizza and baby snuggles.

Stranger things had happened though, so she wasn't holding her breath.

"Thank you," She bit her lip, grinning up at him as she felt herself blush a bit. She didn't know why she still got so weird about compliments. It wasn't like he was shy with them. "And you, handsome as always," She ran her hand down the front of his white button down, tucked into his skinny slacks, his grey blazer over top.

"You are way more gorgeous than I am handsome," He leaned in and gave her a short and simple kiss in order to prevent her from arguing otherwise.

"Yeah, yeah, lets go," She tickled his chin with her fingers before walking off, grabbing Rhonda's fur coat off the bed, sliding it on and heading down stairs.

As he watched her go he said, "Right behind you..." He made sure she sounded almost down the hallway before he went to one of his bags and dug out his special box, shoving it into his coat pocket before jogging down the stairs to meet her.

* * *

"Well this place is hopping," Helga commented as they walked into the restaurant, seeing the band on state playing a savvy number that made her feel like they had just stepped into a turn of the century speak easy. Imagining Brian being a gangster made her laugh, though she found it equally as humorous to picture herself with a flapper hairstyle and wardrobe.

"What's so funny?" Brian leaned in as they waited to be shown to their table.

"I'll tell you when we sit down," She assured as a hostess came up and ushered them to their booth. Their spot was perfect, great view of the band without being too close. Helga slid out of her coat, hanging it up on the complementary hanger. "This place reminds me of what I imagine an old speak-easy being and then I pictured you as a thirties gangster and it made me laugh."

Brian snorted, "I could pull it off."

"You think?" Helga chided as she reached for a menu. She had no idea what type of food they even served there. Steaks apparently. Very jazz of them.

"All I have to do is pull my pants up to just below my nips and I'm good to go."

"Yeah I think you'll be bank robbery ready." Almost ritualistically, she went right to the wine section of the menu, immediately procuring her options on libations for the night.

Their waiter sauntered over to the booth. "Good evening guys, my name is Tate and I'll be taking care of you. Can I get you started with anything to drink?"

"I'll take a water and a glass of the Torres Verdeo."

"Same," Brian looked over to him with a nod. As much as he was learning about wine, he still wasn't confident at selecting any of it on his own. He drank what she drank, and she hadn't steered him wrong yet.

As Tate left, Brian leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs and back, hoping he wouldn't be too sore the next morning. Helga caught him doing so out of the corner of her eyes, resisting the urge to say anything to him right then, because she needed to figure out what she wanted to eat. She had a bad habit of dragging her feet and holding up orders. Mostly because she got so busy with her drink, and that always feigned off hunger.

Their waiter was speedy, quickly getting back to them with their water and spirits before asking, "Do we need a few more minutes or are we ready?"

"I'm ready. I'm going to get the filet with a side of broccoli and a Caesar salad to start," She closed the menu and handed it to him.

"I'll have the New York strip, _rare,_ with a fully loaded baked potato," Brian requested, also handing off his menu.

"Would you also care for a starter salad?"

"No, that's alright."

Tate nodded before whisking their orders away. Helga was already giving her wine a few exploratory sips, approving of it's taste. "You know, you really _shouldn't_ have jumped down to get me today."

"Why?" Brian quirked an eyebrow, taking a couple big swigs of his own wine. He figured he was going to need a little help from liquid courage to pull off what he planned to that night.

His wife lightly rolled her eyes, "You could have broken your legs. Then what would we have done?" She pointed out the logical as her husband sat his glass down, already about halfway through it. Something that didn't go unnoticed by her as she wondered why he acted like he had some kind of anxiety he was trying to damper.

Reaching out he softly ran his fingers over the back of her hand that rested on the base of her tabled wine glass, "You know I would have done anything to get to you."

Helga wasn't sure if that was meant to be rhetorical, or if he were really asking. As close as the were, she'd never considered an emergency situation being a defining moment for them, "Anything?"

"Yeah."

"So..." She smirked, "If a bear ran out of the woods and started trying to eat me you'd still have hopped down?"

Brian pretend to look off in thought for a moment before shrugging, "Eh...I probably would have left you for dead at that point."

"So a bear is where you draw the line. Good to know," She chortled as she lifted her glass to her mouth.

"Honestly, I didn't even know what to expect when I looked over the edge. It could have been a fatal drop for all I knew. I saw you and I jumped," He explained, "Would you have rather I had just left you there?"

"No, it's just...by the time I saw you hurling yourself over the ledge, I knew I was okay and then I kind of panicked about you hurting yourself," She admitted, feeling a little shy about it, feeling a little warm all over the wider his smile grew, "I'm secretly a worry wort, okay? _Sheesh._ You wouldn't believe the crazy scenarios I've come up with when you're gone." She wasn't really sure why she volunteered that information. But she just kept hearing Phoebe's dumb voice saying, _'stop fighting everything'._

Her husband smiled, his eyes lighting up, "I know."

"Oh do you?"

"Some what. What scenarios are we talking here?"

Helga rolled her eyes, blushing a little while burying her mouth in her wine, "It's not important," She shook her head.

"No I want to hear them," He prodded with a charming little voice, "I wont laugh I promise."

"It's nothing. Like you crashing your plane, or getting kidnapped, or...getting seduced by a married lady at a bar and getting your organs stolen and sold on the black market," She said the last part kind of hastily, "It's a strange world we live in."

That last bit, tickled him pink, because he could read between the lines of what she was saying. And while he should have just left her alone about it, he couldn't help but dig a little deeper at it, "You're afraid of me getting picked up at a bar, huh?"

"Only for your organs," Helga coolly replied, "Which admittedly are in much better shape since I've gotten you off of a constant diet of fast food."

"Nah, me and my healthier organs wont be going home with anybody else. You're stuck with me, unfortunately."

Helga sighed, "I don't consider it unfortunate," She quietly admitted, smiling warmly at him.

"Neither do I." That should have been the open door for him to present his rings, but he just couldn't get over the hurdle of fear. And so that was that, they let the conversation extinguish in favor of listening to the music until their food arrived.

When Tate finally sat their plates down and a new round of drinks, Helga's eyes widened considerably at her portions, "That is a way bigger steak than I anticipated and there is no way I will be eating it all."

"Get a to-go box, I'll eat it for a snack later," Brian told her, already digging into his steak. He was used to eating whatever she didn't by that point. She had a stomach the size of a grape for some reason. But hey, free extra food for him.

She ate her fill, he devoured his and they were back to listening to the band while finishing off their drinks for the night. Brian was starting to get antsy, that hot, heart pounding thump that worked it's way up into ones ears becoming hard to ignore as he got closer and closer to just throwing all caution to the wind and doing the thing. He had a good opportunity and he had a good plan B in his back pocket otherwise. He finally just downed the last little bit of his wine before looking directly at her and saying, "So...around Christmas..." He began, hoping that his voice didn't sound stupid, and finding himself getting even more nervous now that he held her undivided attention, "I bought something for us and I had planned to give yours to you Christmas morning but...I just didn't feel like it was a good time." He then put his hand in his jacket pocket, "But...I think now might be?" He hung the question in the air, taking a deep breath and pulling the box out and setting in the center of the table.

Helga felt her eyes get a little wider, and the hand clutching her wine glass subconsciously falling to the table as she stared at it. She knew what it was. Only one thing came in those boxes, but her curious fingers wasted little time slipping to it and snapping open the top.

It was a set. His and hers. And it was _nice._ Way too nice for a couple that didn't...

"You got us rings?" She said, not realizing that a warm little smile had sneaked to her lips. Because she actually _liked_ it. She _liked_ the idea. Just like she'd started liking the idea of changing her last name to his and having feels for him and, again, following Phoebe's dumb advice and throwing everything she knew into the wind and seeing where life took them.

Brian shrugged, "We can...officially be like our friends. And you know...I'm...I'm happy with this," He nodded before nervously laughing and feeling compelled to follow up with, "Plus, I'll have a easier time warding off organ hungry women." Like an idiot.

"I love it," Helga looked up at him, not even realizing that she'd said it. She'd thought it, but it had slipped into words anyway.

"Really?" Brian really perked up but was making a real effort to try and contain himself by that point.

His lovely little wife nodded, "You drive me nuts on some days but...I've been the happiest I've been in a long time these last few months," She inhaled as her slender fingers pulled her two rings from the box, "I am happy that you waited with this though. I'm not sure what my reaction would have been on Christmas morning." Probably have calmly left the house, gotten in the car and then driven away in complete hysterical panic.

"You have no idea how close you came to forcing my hand," He chuckled, wondering if she remembered her knee bumping into the box in his pocket before his parents showed up.

Helga chuckled as she slid the rings onto her finger, officially feeling like a married woman for the first time. Not hating it either. Her husband reached out and grabbed the box, removing his own ring and putting it on before throwing the container back into his pocket.

"Do we care for any desserts this evening?" Tate returned to the table.

"You want anything?" Brian asked Helga.

"I'm good."

"A box and the check please."

* * *

The ride home was silent, but peaceful. Helga's eyes continued to be drawn to the new bling on her hand sitting on the center console. Brian alleviated that pesky little problem for her by wrapping it up in his much larger paw for the remainder of the short drive back up the mountain.

They pulled up the driveway, parked and scurried out of the cold into the warmth of the house. Brian went to the kitchen and Helga headed into the living area, grabbing the remote and flipping on the fireplace. "You want a glass of wine?" He asked from the other room.

Helga laughed, "Is that ever a question?" While she was warming herself in front of the impressive flame, she heard music kick on in the recessed speakers above. Brian strolled out of the kitchen, having opened up one of the several bottles of wine they had brought with them, handing her a nicely filled glass. "Thank you," She took a sip, "Couldn't stand your own thoughts anymore?" She teased.

"More like you talking."

"Full of zingers, as usual."

"As usual," He agreed, taking a few sips of wine before setting his glass down on the mantle, "I'm in the mood to dance."

"What's new."

Brian reached out and took one of her hands, gently pulling her to him, "Why are you always so anti-dance?"

"Because I'm anti-putting myself in embarrassing situations."

"Nobody is here," He pointed out, taking her glass from her and putting it beside his before pulling her completely to him, setting it up to slow dance with her, "Come on..." He begged in a delicate little voice, "Dance with me." And she'd come to discover that she couldn't really resist him when he begged and looked adorable. There were quite a lot of things about him that she couldn't resist, now that she was thinking about. Never the less, she reluctantly nodded and started slowly moving with him. His eyes were sparkling with joy as they swayed in front of the roaring flame, "Oh what a summer time...when we lost our minds..." He began singing along in a low voice, "Between the birds and bees. Buzzing in the blue sky till the full moon rise...playing with chemistry," He leaned down and rested his forehead on the top of hers, his voice almost becoming a mumble at that point, "It feels so classic..." He began humming along, "Come to me baby don't be shy...don't be shy..."

His voice was like velvet to her ears, sending a million goosebumps all over her body in a way that nobody ever had. She leaned up and captured his lips, pouring so much of her emotion into it, that it probably felt like over kill. Yet he caught her, pushing back into her with his on wave of emotion. Helga couldn't explain the way she was starting to feel. Like everything was suddenly _different._ Like she would never be able to get close enough to him, no matter how hard she tried. It wasn't physically possible. Maybe it was facing her feelings. She didn't have a clue at the moment, but she wanted something she'd never actually asked for in her entire _life._

Helga felt herself get backed into the side of the fireplace, Brian's mouth tracing hers, pressing into her body, wanting her, needing her, absolutely smothering her in his scent. It raptured her soul, "Brian...make love to me," She finally asked, breathlessly, unable to stand it anymore.

"Yes..." Brian nodded, and fully pushed her back against the wall, grabbing her ass and shoving her up, allowing her to wrap around him. Air was getting hard to come by. Their kissing suddenly becoming wilder, more frantic, tongues dancing and tangling with one another in no particular rhythm. Her hands were everywhere on him, sweeping through his hair, pulling and scratching her way down his back and shoulders, dragging him impossibly close. A moan escaped her throat when she felt him forcefully grind himself into the dull ache between her legs, heart galloping when his hands splayed out over her thighs, fingers well under her dress and aching for more.

Pulling her away from the wall, he stumbled them upstairs and into the bedroom where he dropped them down on the mattress. He broke away from her mouth long enough to shove her further to the center of the bed, hungrily kissing her again while his hand hunted for the helm of her dress. She was already rocking her hips into his, creating a luscious friction that had them both groaning. But before he had the opportunity to rid her of the annoying piece of fabric, she pushed him back, demanding to flip them. An action he went with.

And suddenly he was flat on his back, gazing up at the beauty straddling him, pulling his shirt open, her mouth seemingly everywhere, re-exploring, and tasting every inch of his body she could reach. Teeth scraping against his creamy soft flesh without apology, his body becoming more overheated with her every touch. She ceased her torturous adventure, looking up her lashes at him when she got to his waist, kissing him through his straining pair of slacks, up and down, driving him absolutely crazy. "Oh..." He breathed in a raspy voice.

Helga smiled, undoing his pants before dipping her fingers under the waist band and sliding them down and then completely off. Brian angled his head towards her, eyes begging what his mouth was too dry to articulate, she in turn, smirking devilishly at him with those ever wicked eyes. Those smoldering pools of blue. Locking eyes with her the entire time, he watched her take him in her hands and falling into pure bliss when she took him into her mouth. His eyes closed and he let his head fall back onto the bed momentarily. Her tongue was just magnificent. As usual, _too_ magnificent. He was in real danger of ruining their evening if it went on too long, "Baby..." He finally groaned after a minute or two, "You need to...stop..." He pathetically begged, though he couldn't muster any sort of ability to physically stop her, "Or...we won't be doing...much else."

To his relief, and also dissatisfaction, she pulled away from him, "We wouldn't want that," She said, coming back up to straddle him as he propped himself up on his elbow. He captured her lips, catching the bit of saltiness in her mouth as she began to slowly rub herself on him.

"Mmm...no, we wouldn't. You have on too many clothes," He said, his tongue popping out to touch hers once more before flipping them back over.

"Fix me up then," She instructed, smiling as he tucked his face into her hair and neck, kissing her right below the ear. His hand found the edge of her dress and pulled it off, his eyes crawling her body, breath hitching at just how unbelievably perfect she was splayed out underneath him, flush faced, radiating with want.

He kissed her again, "You're so perfect," He whispered before his mouth began a slow travel, leaving a trail of goosebumps down her neck and collarbone, running his tongue down the valley between her breasts before paying homage to each in turn, twirling and sucking, feeling her body come even more alive for him. When she arched into him he moved on down, his lips coming to a stop at the band of her underwear. He sat up, thumbs dipping down underneath her waistband, hands sliding the last offensive articles of clothing off of her body.

He leaned down and tenderly kissed her naval before kissing his way down into her inner thighs, hearing her quietly groan as his lips left a patch of tickled goosebumps behind. Wasting no time, he slowly slid a finger inside her wet heat, eliciting a moan of pleasure from her before his mouth came over her. He felt her arch her back and push down into him more, lips being bitten shut to keep herself mostly quiet. And why, he didn't know, but he was just torturing her, purposefully driving her to the edge of her peak before letting her fall away. Over, and over.

The madness was glorious.

Finally, thinking she were going to go crazy if something didn't give, she breathed out a desperate, "Please..."

Brian, never being one to deny her anything for _too_ long, smiled before kissing her inner thigh. He finally brought his mouth back over her again, letting his tongue push her over into the great waves of her release. A strangled cry of pleasure ripped from her throat. He came up and kissed her flushed face. She kissed him back deeply, a glowing smile on her face as he began rubbing himself against her still aching want.

Nipping at his bottom lip, she ran her hands through his hair, leg coming up to his hip, attempting to pull him into her. Brian captured her mouth entirely once more, resisting her attempt to join them, to her great disappointment. He lingered on her lips a few moments more before pushing the tip of himself in, but no further, teasing her. "Brian..."

"Mmhm?"

"I've never wanted you...more in my entire life."

He responded with another kiss, and very gently pushed himself into her, catching a surprised gasp from her lips as he slowly began moving in her. She reached up and pulled him down on her, her lips hungrily seeking his in a frantic attempt to get as close to him as imaginable. He came down onto his elbows, thrusting a little faster, fingers carding through her hair as his mouth met hers again, their tongues dueling in a playful dance. "Mmm..." Helga groaned against his mouth. He felt her nails dig into his shoulder, hissing in pleasure as she did. He broke away from her swollen lips to grab her hands and pin them just above her head, wrapping them in his much larger ones.

He was having to fight the want to abandon all self-control and just fuck her into the mattress right there, which in itself wasn't unusual from any other time, but it was especially a struggle that night, considering how...on _fire_ he was. His mouth slid from hers, and down to her neck, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, having to concentrate hard on making everything last. She wasn't making it easy either, moving against him like he was a sliding scale, bringing a tortured groan up out of his throat.

He realized then that he had to change things up. "Hold on," He wantonly smiled before pulling away, leaving her feeling very exposed as he did.

Brian pulled her up and to her knees, turning her around in front of him. Helga reached out and grabbed a hold of the headboard to steady herself as his hands splayed around her hips, pulling her towards him as forcefully as he thought he could without hurting her. "Mmm...baby?" Helga beckoned aloud, already feeling herself building towards another release as she lolled her head back on her shoulders.

"Yeah?"

"You feel... _so_ good."

He groaned, quickening his thrusting but still attempting to keep himself paced. Starting to fail miserably at that though. He leaned forward, reaching out with his left hand, grabbing a hold of the headboard and bringing his face in, kissing the side of her neck. He breathed her in. She was intoxicating, mouth watering…the sweet, sweet smell of her. Letting go of her hip with his other hand, he then wrapped both of his arms around her body, pulling her backside completely flush with his front, continuing to nip at a spot just below her ear. She tilted her head back, wrapping her arm around his head, dragging her fingers over the back of his hair. She was almost there, he could feel it, and he was thankful because he _really_ wasn't going to last much longer. She just felt entirely too good no matter which way he took her, "Helga..." He began in a husky voice, dropping one of his hands between her thighs, circling in on her nerve bundle, "Come for me beautiful," His hips were moving more forcefully as he started to reach the point of no return.

In an instant, her hand slid to his jaw, tilting his head towards her in order to capture his mouth, plundering it with her tongue as a shudder ripped through her so hard it caused him to gasp as she fluttered and tightened around him. " _God._ Don't ever stop." She let go of his mouth and cried, her body continuing to convulse around him, milking him for his own release.

And succeeding.

As that lovely feeling in his loins began to boil over, it came with a realization that he could no longer ignore, "Helga... _fuck._ " He buried his face in her neck before pushing as deeply as he could into her softness, and spilling every ounce of himself there. "Oh—"

He moved in and out of her a few more times before his body finally ran out of steam and, still hugging her tightly to him, he sat back on his legs. They both panted heavily, desperate for air to settle their rapid heartbeats, still very much wrapped up in one another. Brian felt a tickle on the back of his head as her hand reached back up and brushed through his disheveled locks. Soothing him almost. A much needed moment went by before he finally mustered the strength to lay them down.

They hit their backs, Helga immediately rolling to snuggle up to him as Brian wrapped her up in his arms. He was so tired but feeling the best he'd ever felt. He'd never come so hard in his _life_. Through his exhaustion, so much was stirring up inside of him. So many feelings and emotions were all coming together, not the first time, but with so much vigor he almost felt like he might explode. Swirling, and swirling until the picture it assembled became so overwhelming it prompted him to beckon, "Helga?" In a quiet and exhausted voice.

When she didn't respond, he took her for already being asleep for the night. Though relieved, because he had absolutely no idea _what_ he was doing, there was a piece of him that was disappointed. He was so saturated by his feelings that he wished he could get it out and over with no matter the reaction. He laid his head back onto the pillow, softly moving one of his thumbs in circles on her arm before breathing, "I love you." She wouldn't hear it, but it still gave him a small parcel of peace to get off his chest.

Trouble was...

She wasn't _exactly_ asleep.

* * *

 **A/N:** Look at you! You made it to the end! Was it worth it? What's Helga going to do now? She handled the rings but how is she going to handle the 'L' word?! Is that a bridge too far?! In case you're curious, the two song's Brian serenades Helga with are David Bowie's "Golden Years" and The Knocks "Classic" Sunset remix.

Toodles!


	11. Instincts of a Turkey

Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.

 **Full Summary::** "So Helga, remember five years ago when we agreed that if we were still alone at thirty we'd just get married and be done with it?" "Yeah...so?" "You do realize my birthday was yesterday. You were there...shouting 'Brian's dirty thirty!'" "Oh my God…"

 **A/N:** This is another long one guys. Sorry! I've had a lot of free time lately. No 'M' rated stuff really, out side of one small thing at the bottom but I hardly think it counts. Enjoy the ride! Things get spicy at the end.

* * *

 **Instincts of a turkey.**

Had she been being rude by not answering his soft beckoning of her by name? No. Absolutely not. She had literally been so worn out from their evening, that she didn't have the energy to activate her vocal cords into a simple wordless grunt, much less a full blown reply. Who could have known that by not doing so, would lead to one of the most beautiful expressions in the human language.

Certainly not her.

Should she have been panicked, giving into her natural urge to emotionally collapse in on herself and push the most intimate of vocal affections away? A small part of her wanted to, yes. She was more caught off guard by how small of a piece of her it actually was. The rest of her? Content. Almost as if she'd felt it coming.

Who _was_ she anymore?

Even with that question resting in her mind, sleep finally overtook her with its heavy, inescapable blanket.

* * *

She didn't recall waking _once_ over the entire night, and she was only about half asleep that morning, laying on her stomach, hands tucked underneath her pillow, so comfy and cozy she couldn't fathom moving. She didn't even realize that Brian wasn't in bed beside her, in fact, she didn't really know where he came from, but in the midst of her sleep haze, she felt his pillow soft lips brush across her back, and up across her shoulders, slowly kissing his way up to her neck. "You give me just a taste so I want more..." He hummed a tune in a mumbled voice. Inhaling, a slow smile spread across her lips as she felt him run his hands up under her pillow, finding hers and intertwining his fingers with them, their rings clinking together. Brian felt himself swell up with joy, feeling the metals collide. "Now you've got me crawling, crawling on the floor."

Giving her one last kiss right under her ear, he pushed up, letting her roll over to peer up at him, "And I've never known a girl like you before." He sang softly, laying himself back down on her as she chuckled, extending her arms upward to stretch her sleepy muscles out before draping them around his neck. He looked so content and happy. Happier than she'd ever seen him. Which was really saying something considering that he was the eternal sunshine. He also looked like something wasn't weighing on him anymore. Like maybe a certain 'L' word?

He loved her? Like...was _in_ love with her?

Oh sure, her mind was already building the argument that it had been sex so stupid good that he had been temporarily disconnected from rational thought and reactions. Short circuited into saying something he really didn't mean. Men could be curious that way, with their one track minds.

And hell, everybody had had those _real_ memorable orgasms. The ones where the planets _really_ aligned and left one feeling like they could just die happy on the _spot_ and be fine with it. Or perhaps say crazy things. She'd had a few in her time. And by _time_ she meant most of them with Brian. Now that she was thinking about it.

She wasn't sure she really believed that that was the reason. Only the small part of her, still pitifully afraid of opening up and admitting she was wrong about everything in life, clung to the idea that he was blowing smoke. The rest of her knew better.

Brian was a straight shooter.

And because maybe...she _had_ felt a little something building? While they danced...the whole trip. Or, _hell_ , over the last few months, if she were being honest.

No, more than likely what had happened was that he had stopped being able to hide himself from her. For a brief moment at least. _"We can...officially be like our friends."_ Made more sense to her. He hadn't been talking about the rings. _Entirely_ anyway.

She understood that now.

"How did you know I was awake?" She smiled up at him.

"I can tell by the way you breathe," He replied, his smirk growing wider.

"Sleep well?"

"Very. It's this magical bed."

"Oh it's magical alright." The prior night was magical. 'L' word aside, of the many ways she'd had Brian Miller—and it had been _many_ —she'd never had him like _that_. She'd asked for it though, and he hadn't disappointed. Though now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure she wanted him _any_ other way.

Which was a very scary prospect because that might have meant...

Im- _possible._

Obviously it was a one time boil over of hormones and emotions. It was out of their system.

Brian leaned in, kissing her on the lips, promptly halting her from coming up with anymore _unreasonable_ explanations, a smirk still lingering as he muttered, "I made us breakfast."

Helga's eyes slid back open as an automatic grin slipped to her mouth, "Did you?"

"Mmhm...pancakes." Again, he had watched her make them several times and felt pretty confident in being able to mix flour and water and dump it into a pan. He thought they came out well.

She was hungry, but she was also comfortable, and his lips had this bad habit of just _really_ turning her on, and she was very suspicious that he knew it.

* * *

They had done it again, and as a consequence, sat at the kitchen island, eating reheated pancakes. How? How was it possible that they'd managed to make love _twice?_ Or well... _her._ He was having no problems in that department. There was no _denying_ it at that point. He was definitely a _different_ man from yesterday. Helga scowled a little as she forked her breakfast into her mouth, Brian none-the-wiser as he scrolled through his phone. Much like how she hated the word 'horny' because it was the stupidest sounding thing ever, she hated the phrase 'make love' because it was the sappiest sounding crap _ever._ The cringe was strong when she thought about how _she'd_ uttered said sappy, gross phrase. _She_ had been the one to start the ball rolling! In front of a romantic fire. After a romantic evening. In a romantic freakin' mountain cabin to boot!

The cliche was _so_ strong. She blamed the over dramatic writer in her that _loved_ coming out once in awhile. She _really_ needed to take the university up on adding that creative writing class to the schedule so she could unleash the beast once in awhile.

To be fair, and it was the _only_ thing she had to make herself feel less... _ew_ , it had been far easier to say than, 'Brian...my husband who I am falling in— _for_ —please have sex with me so passionately that you wont be able to tell where one of us begins and the other ends.'

Yeah...too wordy.

And why was she even feeling the need to say that to _begin_ with?

God almighty she had too much to digest that morning. Pancakes. Her new found interest in sensual sex with her husband. Said husband being _in love_ with her. It was almost too much for a girl to chew on so early.

And of course, the other glaring question. Should she say anything to him? Like...maybe that she had _heard_ him? She didn't really think so, believing that he _wouldn't_ have said anything if he'd known for sure that she had still been awake.

Still, overhearing him did have its positives she supposed. Or at least she found herself trying to spin it that way.

Even if he _had_ just been blowing smoke because he'd gotten his rocks off _really_ good, at least she knew he was _satisfied_ with her. In no stretch of any imagination did she ever consider herself some firecracker in bed, even though she'd never had any complaints from anybody. Of course, now that she thought about it, she had had a few complaints about some of her past lovers—also on the list of _gross_ words—and had kept them to herself. So... _yeah_ maybe she was awful and they'd all just been too nice to say anything. Still, she felt good knowing that he _wasn't_ miserable being with her...or secretly looking for someone else. As if the giant, shiny piece of bling on her finger didn't shout it to the heavens.

What could she say? She was an insecure person. She'd been dumped by her soul mate when she'd been sure a proposal was coming so, yeah, she considered herself to have the gut instincts of a turkey in a rainstorm near a busy highway.

Weirdly enough—and she was still trying to _grapple_ with it herself—she was surprisingly _okay_ with his 'L' word slip being genuine.

Marriage was turning out to be one _hell_ of a drug. Or Brian was...

"You want to hit the slopes, or go hiking...or do nothing at all?" Brian asked, stirring her from her thoughts as he sat his phone down. Helga would have been perfectly content just vegging out that day, after all, they had been there how many days and had yet to venture near that killer hot tub? Alas, they were paying a chunk of change to experience the outdoors of Aspen, so she figured they needed to get their monies worth. "Let's hit the slopes, Lindsay." She smirked, winking at him as she took her plate to the dishwasher.

* * *

They hit a new ski trail that day, Brian being resistant about hitting any black diamonds, though he had all but insisted every day up until then. It wasn't exactly a mystery why either. He could insist all he wanted that he wasn't _feeling_ it that day, but Helga knew it was all an excuse. He was afraid of her falling and hurting herself again. Something that made her want to simultaneously slap him up side the head, and give him a hug.

His ability to be smooth about it is what kept him off the hook.

Also, she secretly didn't have it in her to hit the pro trails that day anyway. Partially because of sore muscles, and partially because of frazzled nerves. Much to her chagrin. She needed to spend a day getting her mojo back.

For Brian's part, he couldn't stop smiling, whether it was brightly or just resting, the glee could not have been wiped from his face for anything. He just wanted to look at her. And he did. Thankful that he was at least a little incognito with it or she would have probably thought he'd lost his marbles.

It felt so relieving to have come to grips with the melting pot of emotions he'd been trying to make sense of for too long. A weight really did feel like it had been lifted from his shoulders.

God he loved that girl.

And that was still so wild to him.

He personally had never really put much stock in the whole soul mates or, love at first sight thing like she did. He'd never seen a girl and immediately thought, _yep, she's the one for me._ Much less, Helga Pataki. Yet, it was almost poetic how they had weaved through each others lives though. From him low key stalking her a bit as children, them staying friends into adulthood, showing up at Phoebe and Gerald's stock the bar party newly single together, falling into the same dating rut together, her bringing up the story she read, them making a off the wall agreement that neither had any intention of going through, but ultimately led to, what he now considered the best decision he'd ever made in his life.

Still, Brian supposed he rather liked the fact that he hadn't had some previous romantic attraction to her. What he felt was deep, grown from nothing but a solid friendship, and that was about as genuine as it came.

He so badly wanted to tell her, just to get it out in the open. Hell, he wanted to shout it from the mountain top they were on, but he knew he had to be more subtle than that. There was plenty of time for that down the road. Besides, he wanted her to fall in love with him first. She was capable, in his eyes. He knew that she was at least _into_ him. Neither could exactly _hide_ that fact anymore. He could live with that. It gave him more than enough to work with. Especially since Arnold seemed to be less and less of a haunting specter in their relationship each day. He knew she was moving on. And if Arnold never came back, well, Brian—selfishly—could only see it as a _good_ thing at that point, despite actually missing his friend just as much as the rest of the gang did.

They finally exited their lift, skiing out a little ways before they came up on the official start of the moderate slope. Helga stopped for a moment, taking in the grand view of the mountain, realizing that she hadn't taken _any_ pictures, the entire time they'd been there. For somebody who really enjoyed Instagram— _secretly_ —she herself was terrible about documenting _anything_ interesting she did. Which admittedly, wasn't _usually_ anything besides food. Of course that wasn't _entirely_ true. She and Brian had been doing _a lot_ of interesting things in the last few months. All she had failed to get good, if any, pictures of.

She was going to get this though. If anything, it would make a fantastic screen background for her phone. Brian, completely oblivious to her digging out her phone from her pants, skied down about fifty feet or so before skidding to a stop and looking back up at her. "What are you doing?" He called up.

"Taking a picture. Do you see this view?" She smirked as she held her phone up. Brian pushed his goggles up on his beanie as he continued looking up at her taking the picture. "Smile Sasquatch," She teased. He chuckled and threw a Shaka sign with his hand.

In a rather hurried fashion, because other people were coming up behind them, she uploaded it to the gram, choosing no caption other than the heart emoji, and not even giving a second thought about _why_ she would automatically choose that, before she posted it.

* * *

 **England**

He was out. He was done. He had officially resigned his position and was preparing to head back to the states, though not that day, or in the next few weeks. As much of the world as he'd seen, and it had been a good bit in five years, not much of it had been for leisure, and he was making it a point to treat himself to some places he'd always wanted to spend time in before returning home. That was how he found himself in England, the first leg of his tour home.

Arnold had just arrived back to his hotel room that night, bags of staples in tow. A brand spanking new phone and computer being among the few items he was most excited about. He hadn't had a proper cell phone in half a decade. Half. A. Decade. He lived in developing countries, often time spending his time in off the grid villages and jungles where a satellite phone was about the only connection to the outside world there was. He had seen little need to keep his phone and continue to pay for service.

But, now he was ready to rejoin the modern world with things that really were taken for granted luxuries. Dropping his bags on the table, he dug out his new case and promptly slipped his new phone into it. He intended to unpack his remaining things, but his phone proved to be the ever predictable time suck that he remembered it being. Especially when he got busy downloading all of the old social media apps that he used to have.

He didn't even know if he still had an account with half of them but, he was about to see. Facebook, Instagram, Snap-chat, the works. Everything re-activated quite easily. When he signed into the gram, the first thing he saw, was a picture from Helga as the most recent on his feed.

A pretty awesome shot of a mountain view, though he couldn't place it the location. It definitely wasn't sugar mountain. He could tell she was on a ski slope somewhere and as he looked a little closer, zooming in with his fingers, he noticed that it was Brian in the foreground smiling. "Guess you knuckleheads took a ski trip," Arnold chuckled, recalling how much fun they all used to have on their group trips. Fondly remembering the time that everybody had gotten food poisoning, leaving he and Helga to spend the rest of the trip alone together. Which led to coffee, which led to dates, which led to dating, which then led to him making probably one of the biggest mistakes in his life. That wasn't entirely true. He had done some amazing work that actually had made a difference in hundreds of peoples lives across the world. However, it had been costly, coming at the expense of his love life.

But that was changing, and as much as he wanted to like or comment on her little photo, just to get her speculating, he wanted it to be a surprise when he got home, assuming Gerald hadn't already told everybody. Being worried about interrupting her life was the furthest thought from his mind at that point, after all, he knew from his sporadic chats with Gerald over the years that there had been other men, but nothing that had lasted very long.

He was very thankful for that.

* * *

 **Aspen**

"I understand that when you have stupid money, you can live anywhere and everywhere, but...why would you want to live anywhere but here?" Brian said, looking out over the setting sun before pulling his shirt over his head, and his pants off, effectively stripping down to the buff before hurriedly sliding into the warm bubbly goodness of the hot tub to join his wife. Somehow, the availability of a Jacuzzi had missed Helga when she was booking—probably because there were a _million_ other things to be enamored by—so neither had packed swimwear.

Not that it was a problem. Water had this great thing going for it where all one needed was their birthday suit.

"I guess we're just easily amused peasants," Helga chuckled, bringing her wine glass to her lips. They had split their final THC laced Reese's cup, put some tunes on and were anxiously awaiting for it to kick in. Of course they had been a little smarter about it than last time around and actually ate a full meal before ' _desert'._

"We should get one of these," Brian mused as he reached for his own glass, really enjoying the spaciousness of the contraption, "Can you imagine bath bomb Fridays?" He chuckled.

"You know, for somebody who sneered at the idea of soaking in a bath, you sure have become a fan."

Brian laughed, rolling his eyes, "That's the only thing you have to say about that?"

His wife shrugged, "I mean...yeah," She chuckled, "I have no idea where we'd even put one. Have you seen the size of our house?"

"Well..." Brian began smirking like a smart-ass.

And Helga rolled her eyes, knowing _exactly_ what he was about to say, "Don't..."

"My condo was bigger."

"And there it is."

Brian chuckled, "Why do you hate the truth?"

"I _don't._ Where, pray tell, do you suppose we would have put a hot tub in there? Hmm?"

"Somewhere."

"Somewhere?" Helga laughed as she shook her head.

"Uh huh."

"Also, your master bathtub was _pitiful._ "

"Oh, it wasn't that bad."

"Compared to mine," She quipped with a smirk, "Besides, all I would have done is complained about it anyway so, consider yourself lucky."

"I just get to hear you complain about everything else instead," Brian chuckled before taking a sip of his wine, "Yes, lucky me," Leaving his wife's mouth to fall slightly a gap as she shook her head and rolled her eyes. Downing the little bit of wine she had left in her glass, she sat it down, feeling a little bit of a head rush that she was positive was a combination of alcohol and that edible starting to kick in. "What?"

Helga thinned her eyes at him, though with no real malice, setting her wine glass down before saying, "That mouth of yours..." As she slid over to him, coming to straddle him in the water, slinking one arm around his neck and tapping his mouth with her other hand's fingers, "Is about to reunite with ole' Betsy, and maybe...the five avengers if you aren't careful."

Brian chuckled lowly, setting his glass down before letting his hands fall beneath the water, where they wrapped around her hips, "You're lucky, I can't tickle in water, or else _you_ would be reunited with _that_." He leaned in and kissed her quickly.

"Yeah, yeah. You feeling that Reese's cup yet?" She smirked against his mouth. She was starting to feel _very_ tingly and floaty herself, being overcome with that desire to be touched again, but thankfully the uncontrollable laughs hadn't arrived.

"I've got the tingles...but it could be because you decided to float over here and seduce me."

"No," She corrected with a chuckle, "I floated over here to threaten you."

"I'm a little worried that you seem not to know the difference between the two."

"It was a threat."

"Of...? Sexy violence?" He chortled.

"Look, I'm two glasses of wine deep and on drugs now so, yeah, maybe. I'm a wild card now." She winked and went to kiss him, but stopped, cocking her head sideways as her face shifted into bewilderment. Brian chuckled, not really seeing what was so amusing to her all of a sudden. It was most likely just that her brain was starting to function a little differently with what was in her system, because she had _just_ noticed that he had reggae music playing, "What are we _listening_ to here?"

"Stoner music?" He grinned, but gave a very as-matter-of-fact answer.

"Criminey..." She rolled her eyes, but started laughing about it anyway. crap...were the laughs coming back? Dammit.

"When in Rome, baby," He teased, pecking her on the lips a few times before explaining his reasoning, "Hey, getting high and listening to music is pop culture. There has to be something to it, right?"

Helga chuckled, kissing him on the cheek, "I guess we're going to find out." Brian was about to say something else, but was cut off by not one, but both of their phones chirping simultaneously with a text message. Obviously a group message of some sort. They looked at each other for a moment, "I've got it," She reached for his phone that was laid out behind him. It was closer than hers and she knew that he wouldn't care. Brian reached for his wine, taking a sip as she investigated their group alert, watching as her eyebrows rose up her forehead and a genuine little smile upturned the corner of her mouth, "Looks like we've got a baby."

Now Brian's own mind was starting to slow just a bit, because for the life of him, he couldn't figure out _what_ she was talking about for a split second. _They_ had a baby? How could _that_ be possible? Well, he knew how it could be _possible_ , he just didn't understand why it would involve a group text and why Helga seemed so...excited about it. Or why he seemed to be the last to know. Or why his parents hadn't come parachuting from the sky in glee having sensed a grandchild on the way.

It wasn't until she turned the phone for him to see, and he caught sight of a shriveled little newborn, swaddled and with a little pink cap on that it dawned on him that it was Stinky and Amy that she was talking about, "Oh dang...they had their baby."

"Hannah McCoy Peterson." Helga read the name, choosing to omit the other details like size and weight that the proud parents had sent along. She was a girl and barely cared about that boring stuff, so she knew no guy would care either.

Brian reached up and turned the phone back so he could see the screen again, not even realizing that his eye had begun to sparkle a bit, "She's cute." He was no newborn expert, but that was an adorable kid by any TV reference that he had.

"She's very cute." Helga caught his little twinkle, admittedly kind of surprised by how excited about seeing a baby he was. "Criminey...this is going to sound terrible but you know what my first thought was when I saw her?" She started chuckling, tinging a little red with shame.

And her laughter made Brian chortle as well, because he knew _exactly_ what she had been thinking, "Thank God she looks like Amy?"

" _Yes!_ "

"I was totally rooting for Amy's genes here."

Helga snorted, "How horrible would that have been if she'd gotten his schnoz?"

"God's not that cruel, horrible." Brian chuckled.

"Jeez..." His wife sighed with a slight smile still in place, "Stinky is a married, parent now. Hard to believe." She then dimmed the screen of his phone and set it back down on the deck behind his head.

Brian smirked, reaching over to the tablet that controlled the house, swiping into Spotify to change the playlist to something more lo-key, as he was starting to _really_ slow down by that point. It was still crazy to him how suddenly that edible could hit, "Hard to believe that he's, unknowingly, the reason why _we're_ married." He then chuckled as she leaned back in and captured his awaiting lips.

" _Yeah_...that too," She said against his mouth, wrapping both arms around his neck, really starting to feel her body get more heavy and tingly, and downright _fantastic_ feeling. Thank God without the urge to laugh uncontrollably. A major plus.

Breaking the kiss he suddenly said, "You know what I just remembered?" The date having quite suddenly popped in his mind as his thoughts began to get more hazy.

"What?"

"Somebody has a birthday coming up," He grinned.

Helga rolled her eyes, kind of hoping it would be forgotten that year. And every year from thirty on, "Don't remind me."

Her husband quietly chuckled, hearing the slight slur in her voice, which led his mind to change gears _yet_ again, "Starting to hit you?" It was really hitting him. No doubt much more pleasantly than the first time. It had to have been because they had eaten first. Or maybe it was the addition of the wine. Not that they hadn't had a blast with the first Reese's cup, because they _had_ , but he was very much enjoying the more mellow experience this time around.

"Mmhm. This water feels _amazing,_ " She muttered. His skin against hers also felt amazing. And those lips, like a pair of ethereal pillows against her mouth. Brian kind of wanted to take them inside, because he was getting beyond turned on, but damn, she was _right,_ the motion of the warm water against his body really did feel _amazingly_ relaxing. He'd been in a hot tub on several occasions, but never while high.

"It does," He groaned, "I feel _really_ good." She didn't say anything back for several minutes as they enjoyed the water, and the music while getting lost in the sensation of their mouths and tongues colliding together. Time was slowing.

Helga's fingers tangled into his hair at the back of his head, tugging before she broke their lips apart, resting her forehead against his as she felt a vibrating chill coarse up her back, leaving fanning flame of goosebumps curling over her shoulders and into her chest, "Baby?" She beckoned in a quiet voice that had a noticeable twinge of neediness to it. Her body was ablaze with so many sensations. It was almost as if she could focus in on every single nerve in her body at will. She knew that if she could stay focused, that she'd very much like to feel him from the inside before everything wore off, but right then, she was craving something else.

"Hmm?"

"Sing to me." She couldn't get her mind off of wanting anything else at that moment, other than just to hear his velvety voice lull her like the night before.

Brian once again smiled, bringing one of his hands up out of the water and cupping her face with it, running the pad of his thumb over the corner of her mouth. Luckily he knew the song playing, however even if he hadn't, he would have sung her whatever he could think of. "Shut your eyes and think of somewhere," He hummed in a low voice, "Somewhere cold and caked in snow." The corner of Helga's mouth lifted into a tickled smirk. "By the fire we break the quiet. Learn to wear each other well."

* * *

 **Home**

The final two days of their vacation flew by, and their little lover's getaway in the mountains officially came to a close. Way too quickly. It had hardly felt like an entire week. Helga would be the first to vocalize that she wished they didn't _have_ to leave. And uncharacteristically so, because she was normally unamused by _everything._ That was how much she had enjoyed the _entire_ time with him.

Though they were having to return to reality, she was at least thankful that a few things _did_ follow them home. An appreciation for cannabis, though neither were interested in it being anything more than perhaps a fun vacation tradition going forward. The longing itch for skiing having been thoroughly scratched. The sporting of new marriage milestone on their hands, and of course, the whole new intimate dynamic between them.

Even if the 'L' _had_ to get involved.

It had been a fear, for Helga at least, that once they got home, everything would quickly wear off and things between them would return to normal. Not that normal had been bad. Normal with him had been _leagues_ better than anything else she'd experienced, but...this _new_ dynamic that they had together was _good_ stuff. No wonder so much radio airspace was devoted to the wonders of love making. Dumb phrase and she still hated it with a _fiery_ passion, but good _lord_ , did she _never_ want ordinary sex ever again.

For lack of a better way of putting it, Helga Pataki was on cloud nine, and she almost didn't even _care_ that she had a reputation as the resident grouch to uphold either. Dare she say that she was excited about life for the first time in awhile? Yes. She _dare_ say that. Because she was. She was excited about a life with Brian Miller.

 _Holy. Crap._

Caught outside of her typical demeanor is where she found herself as she wrapped up her lecture in her 102 English class that Monday afternoon. She had barely noticed that the entire class hadn't budged from her dismissal, until a girl in the middle row's hand flew high into the air with an urgent question.

"Yes?"

"Are we not taking that quiz?" Said girl inquired, to the groans of half the class. Helga's eyebrow ticked upward in curiosity, and a little in confusion. "It was a pre-scheduled one. In the syllabus." The professor leaned over and eyed the copy that she kept at her desk for reference. Indeed, she had had one scheduled for that day. And she'd forgotten. And...she didn't really feel like grading anything that night, because she and Brian had a dinner date, "Yep. I forgot about it. Hundreds for everybody. On the house." She resumed packing up her bag.

Again, her class didn't budge from their desks. "Is this a trap?" She heard one boy from the back cautiously ask.

"Yeah...you've like...never given us a free grade before. Like ever."

"Are you dying?"

Helga's face deadpanned, "No! I'm not dying, and it's not a trap. Now get out of here before I change my mine!"

That did it, because they hurriedly stampeded from the auditorium like a herd of zoo animals, leaving her to wonder if it really was that hard for people to believe she was genuinely being nice.

* * *

 **Dinner date.**

She wasn't really sure why, or exactly _when_ it happened, but Helga had found herself kind of just liking to look at Brian. Like, her eyes couldn't get _enough_. When did he become so _sexy_ to her? When did he make the switch from handsome guy friend—husband—whom, she'd never had a single romantic thought about—not even a 'what if'—to being so damn delicious? She would have assumed it would have happened around the time they started sleeping together, but that hadn't been the case. Sure, he could _be_ sexy, and _incredibly_ so when things got hot, but up until recently, she hadn't caught herself just stopping, looking him over and saying, _'Damn.'_

Dad bod and all. He had one of the good ones though, even if she liked to tease him. Broad, great arms, and the sexiest little happy trail tha—she needed to stop.

Luckily he was none-the-wiser of her gazing peepers while he studied the menu at the taco place they were dinning at.

* * *

 **Thursday Trivia.**

"What's our name?" Helga procured as she pulled out a chair from the group table, draping her jacket over the back as Brian grabbed them drinks from the bar.

"Rum Forest Rum."

"Lovely," The blonde smirked, rolling her eyes, "It's a wonder we haven't been banned from this place yet." And they never would. They had only been going to Buckets for close to a decade by that point, it having been the first place they all went to when everybody _finally_ turned twenty-one. They had been frequenting the bar for so long, and so often— _weekly_ —that they were on a first name basis with the owner, Manuelo.

"How was aspen?" Lila inquired.

"Freaking amazing," Helga enthused as she slumped down into the old wood chair, "Air Bnb is the way to go."

"Really? We've thought about it."

"The house we got was _way_ better than any hotel we could've stayed in."

Brian walked up and sat a glass of zinfandel down in front of Helga, before taking his seat beside her, "It was one of those houses that has a tablet that controls everything. Stupid money somebody spent on this thing."

"Eat any sushi while there?" Sid teased, recalling their famous group trip.

"No," Brian rolled his eyes, very much remembering how much pain he'd been in on that trip. Worst stomach ache of his _life._ Literally, he thought he had been dying. Like, laying on the bathroom of his room, in the fetal position, talking to his mom on the phone. "No ski lodge sushi for me."

"Hey, that was all of your faults for eating salt water fish in the mountains to begin with," Helga chuckled, reaching her hand up from under the table and clasping her wine glass, "Arnold and I were the only ones to use some judgement there." If memory served her correct, her exact words were, ' _I'm not eating fish at a ski lodge.'_ and Arnold saying something along the lines of _'Ditto'_.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa what is this?" Gerald said with a curious smile, Helga following his eyes right to her hand that was bringing her wine to her mouth and inadvertently flashing her new bling _everywhere_. "Look at that thing. It's huge."

"That's what she said," Brian muttered through a playful smirk, earning himself a light elbowing from said wife.

"Oh my God..." She rolled her eyes, shaking her head, but fighting a smirk because it was kind of funny, "Yeah, we finally got our rings."

"Dang man, what are they paying you over there?" Harold teasingly asked Brian.

Sheena chortled, "They don't have kids, of course they have plenty of disposable income."

Arnie began nodding wholeheartedly in agreement with that assessment, "Child free is the way to be."

"Oh, I'm always so jealous of you girls that got married later with your big rings," Nadine admitted. Of everybody, Nadine and Eugene had been the only ones that had gotten married _in_ college.

"Hey, I have you know I ate a lot of ramen to afford that," Eugene smirked.

Nadine gave her husband an adoring little look, "I know."

* * *

 **Friday**

Brian had pulled to the curb in front of their house about ten minutes prior, but had gotten a little distracted watching the couple next door loading boxes into a moving truck that was backed into their driveway. He hadn't really ever met them. They didn't live on the most social street. They looked younger than Brian and Helga and had a toddler, and a dog that would occasionally bark at random times. Their backyard, from what he could see, was just littered with toys. A crazy amount of toys for one child. But he got it, he'd been to all of his friends homes and seen the volumes of kid stuff that was seemingly _required_ per child.

He didn't even have to wonder _why_ they were moving. It was obvious, based on the amount of stuff he'd seen them move into the truck in a short amount of time, that they needed _more_ space. Helga's house, along with all of the rest on that street, was a town home. It was a single person, two people max kind of house. Yes, his condo was in the same category too, and would have fared no better at the headache he could now see further down the road.

There were still a lot of things to be decided, sure, but if things stayed the course, as he dearly hoped they would, he didn't want to find himself in the same situation as the neighbors. Running out of room. Ideally, he'd like to be in something more suited for growth before the growth happened.

Yep. He wanted a bigger house.

But trying to convenience Helga to let go of her precious abode might be challenging.

* * *

 **Saturday.**

Phoebe had seriously had to resist the urge to blow up Helga's phone after Thursday. Girl couldn't be skulking up into a trivia night with a brand new ring set after yapping her ear off on two occasions about how nothing could ever be real with Brian. What in the blue blazes had happened on that vacation? She didn't know, but she was going to find out. In an uncharacteristically pushy manner, Phoebe had barely let Helga get her feet good and hot in the pedicure soak before she turned to her, dead eye staring her down and asked, "What the heck happened on vacation?"

Helga's eyes kind of widened for a brief moment, admittedly very caught off guard by her friends forward behavior, though she really shouldn't have been, given Phoebe's past savagery. She knew the woman would be lighting her up at some point. She had, once again, gotten herself too distracted by Brian to really think about it. Or care. "Uh...we...had a good time and he gave me a ring?" She sort of flashed her one of those fake smiles that first graders did, where they just bare teeth and look around awkwardly.

"You think?" Phoebe, tilted her head, shooting her friend an unamused stare, "You knew I was going to ask."

"Yeah, yeah," She rolled her eyes before lifting her shoulder in a casual shrug, "We did have a really good time. He popped the ring on me at dinner."

"Did he...do it like a proposal?"

"God no. Thankfully," Helga chuckled, imagining how mortified she would have been if he'd done the whole one knee thing to make it official. Of course she had expected herself to be _mortified_ by him dropping the 'L' bomb on her, but she hadn't been. Maybe she would have surprised herself.

Phoebe laughed too, "I have to assume he had this planned out?"

"Sort of, I guess. He said he'd had them since Christmas," Helga explained, "Or at least that's what he told me."

"I'm actually rather shocked to hear you didn't bolt from the table," Phoebe chuckled, more surprised about the fact that her friend wasn't actively seeking a divorce at that point.

Helga rolled her eyes, though she was getting to be rather tired of people always expecting the worst reactions out of her. A life time of being so ridged about things would do that, she supposed, "Weren't you the one telling me to stop fighting life and just go with it?" She sneered mockingly, "Besides, it sells the story better," And even though she had begun to hate people _not_ giving her credit, breaking an ingrained habit like pretending that she wasn't actually _loving_ her new ring set, was a tough hill to climb.

But as usual, Phoebe knew better. She always did. And the way she thinned her eyes at Helga said as much. She didn't think Helga's complacency had anything to do with just wanting to keep up with appearances. She'd never known her friend to do much of anything she didn't _want_ to do. For appearance or otherwise. The stubborn Pataki in her. There wasn't any _need_ to sell the story at that point, and she knew it. Besides, nobody was asking questions! Even her initially suspicious husband was a believer! "How? Arnie and Lila don't have rings...by choice of course, but still, nobody views their marriage as an illegitimate union."

"Well, that's because theirs _isn't_. And they were an out in the open, dating couple before marriage. Also, they have those little infinity tattoos on their fingers so—"

"—You know what I think? I think you like it."

"It's an adjustment. How about we leave it at that?"

"An adjustment that you _obviously_ liked or else you would have said _no_."

"How do you know?"

"Because you hate everything. _Until_ you try it."

Helga's mouth bobbed open and closed a few times, completely disagreeing, but also realizing that Phoebe was just going to beat her down until she got what she wanted. So she begrudgingly nodded, " _Yes._ I _like_ it. Okay? Happy now!?" She crossed her arms, before going on with, "I like feeling like I'm not living in some...cobbled together civil union and then lying to the world about it."

"So, you prove my point." Phoebe stood firm before sitting back in her chair and getting comfy. She was content with that, having at least gotten Helga to admit that she _liked_ something. In record time no less. But she still felt like her friend was hiding something from her, she just couldn't quite put her finger on what. But she suspected that what Helga liked about the rings was that it was symbolic of the fact that she actually _was_ in a legitimate relationship, with real feelings, and emotions, even if she refused to admit it, "And since when have you ever had a problem lying about your feelings?"

" _Hey_..."

"I'm just saying...I spent our _entire_ childhood secretly wanting to strangle you. That's all. And so did Arnold, probably," Phoebe chuckled, casting her friend a teasing look, "No, I'm happy you're at least being open to it."

"Yep. Sure am," Helga grumbled, leading her best friends peepers back over onto her person with another inquiring stare. "Taking your advice."

Yet again, Phoebe found herself gazing at the girl through heavily thinned eyes, attempting to read her soul, "Something _else_ happened, _didn't it_?"

Helga snorted but couldn't hide the bit of nervousness behind it. She knew she should have faked a cold to get out of this outing, knowing that Phoebe was going to be on her like hot in a desert eventually, "I mean... _no._ " And Brian was right, she kind of was a terrible liar. Or maybe he and Phoebe were just on to her better than everybody else. Probably that.

"I've heard that before," Phoebe rolled her eyes, setting back in her chair, grabbing her cucumber water and taking a few petite sips, again knowing that she was giving Helga just enough rope to ensnare herself with.

Helga didn't know why Phoebe's little disappointed shtick always got her, but it did. Every. Single. _Time._ Hook, line, and sinker. It was like she'd managed to tap into that motherly concern that she'd always wished her own mother had had. Made sense. Phoebe was a mother and had concern. "He _may_ have told me he loved me..."

Her best friend nearly choked on her cucumber water. Honestly she ought to have known better by that point not to consume fluids when pressing a Pataki for information. They were _always_ going to dump a bombshell. Never failed. Or at least that was her experience with _that_ particular Pataki. " _What?_ " She managed to get out after regaining breath, "How is there a _maybe_ in that?"

"There...there just is." Helga vaguely replied, shrugging her shoulders.

But, Phoebe kept pressing. Naturally, "Either he did or he didn't."

"Well...he did, _but_ he doesn't know that I know or anything," Helga less vaguely explained, yet failing to provide her friend with any more clarity than before.

And Phoebe could only blink, "That told me nothing at all."

Helga sighed, a tinge of a blush flushing her cheeks, though she didn't know _why._ She supposed the idea of explaining how it happened. It wasn't like she hadn't talked about sex with Phoebe before. On many occasions. Mostly complaints, true, but what happened between her and Brian, well...it was a lot more personal. Somehow. Damn 'L' word. "So...after our date and, the rings we...had some _really_ incredible sex and I think he thought I was asleep when he said it..."

Two things: First, the whole _'he doesn't know that I know'_ now made one hundred percent sense. Second, she was thoroughly intrigued by how calm Helga was about such a deep sentiment from him. It both worried her and made her hopeful. "So...you didn't...say _anything_ to him?"

"I sort of _assumed_ he was still in that post sex haze that...makes you say crazy things you don't mean," Helga shrugged, attempting to justify her actions, though, again, she didn't really understand _why_. "Which, yes, I know that's dumb because I've never said anything crazy like that in my life."

"And you've just been...walking around, privy to that knowledge without him knowing for...over a week now?"

"Mmhm," Helga nodded taking a sip of her own water.

 _That._ That right there intrigued Phoebe more than anything else that Helga had told her since their outing began. Brian was in love with her? Not surprising, they were a good fit for one another. It also probably explained the rings, even if Helga said otherwise. Him getting caught expressing his feelings to her, yep, accidents happened. Helga not currently filing for divorce and heading for the hills in panic and instead being seemingly okay with it and the shiny display it came with? _Parallel_ universe. However, it reminded Phoebe of something else. Another time. A time when Helga and Arnold had first started dating, and how she'd looked so content and proud of herself. Happy. So in lo—"Oh. My. _Goodness_..." Fell out of her still shocked mouth before she could swallow it down her thought for the _complete_ speculation that it was.

"W-what?" The blonde nervously replied, a little water dribbling down her chin. She didn't like the look on Phoebe's face, one bit.

Phoebe smirked at her, a disbelief totally present in her expression, but she was also, admittedly, impressed, "You're in lo—

"— _Nope_." Helga cut her off, vehemently shaking her head 'no.' It wasn't true.

"You ar—"

"—Don't say it," Her friend warned, "So help me, I will douse you in cucumber water _right now_ Pheebs." She didn't want to hear it. Because It. Wasn't. _True_...was it? _No._ Though, it could explain why she'd been walking around so _okay_ with Brian's 'L' word. _Nope._ Impossible. Which meant, it could only be her subconscious choosing to _deal_ with it, as a sort of...survival instinct.

"Then what is it? This is unlike you. You've broken up with every guy because of some nonsense or another," Phoebe pointed out, still with a knowing smirk on her face, "This one drops a declaration of love on you, and you continue on about your business? And don't even try to say you are heeding my advice. I know you. You should be on the fast track back to single-hood right now."

Helga sighed, "Look. He and I both agreed to stay in this for the _long_ haul. That was the deal, because neither one of us wanted to continue on in that _disaster_ train known as the dating scene. So, I've accepted that there are some things I might have to _deal_ with along the way. Granted...I never imagined something like _that._ But that's what I'm doing. I'm d _ealing_ with it."

Phoebe chuckled, "If that's what you want to call it."

* * *

 **That Night.**

Helga could call it _dealing with it_ all she wanted, but people who were actually _dealing_ with something hardly ever seemed content with whatever situation they were, well, _dealing_ with. Much less _happy_ about it. Helga and Brian, by all outside appearances, were a _happy_ couple, who hardly appeared to be _dealing_ with each other. Brian was always perky anyway, but he was noticeably more cheery those days, and Helga, as Phoebe had just noticed, had taken on a resting smile face when in his company.

Something she only did when she were _truly_ happy.

Again, Phoebe remembered the last time her best friend in the whole wide world had had a resting smile face. _Arnold._ The life of Helga's resting expressions had gone from scowl, to flat, to smile, to scowl, to flat, and as it appeared, _back_ to smile.

And it just got more damning for Helga when Phoebe caught a glimpse of them in the kitchen. Brian was teasing her about something as she grabbed a slice of pizza from the box. She watched as Helga said something probably snarky back, before holding the pizza up so he could take a bite, and then capping it off by pushing up on her tippy toes to kiss him.

And it was kind of a long kiss.

Awfully, _awfully_ interesting behavior from someone who was just _dealing_ with her husband being in love with her.

"Hi!" Amy announced as she and Stinky stepped through Helga's front door, toting the new born nugget in the carrier.

"Hey guys!" Brian greeted, walking out of the kitchen with a look of real surprise on his face, "We weren't expecting you two at all." What with the new baby and all.

Amy shrugged, "We aren't planning on staying long, but everybody has been begging to see little miss here," She smiled, setting her bag down on one of the bar stools as her husband sat the car seat down in the living room where the crowd was already ogling the infant.

And that was that. The tiny new person stole the show. Nobody was interested in any game except for pass the newborn. "Rhonda is really going to hate that she wasn't feeling well tonight," Patty mused as she made a face at little Hannah in her hands.

Nadine chuckled next to her, "For sure. I'm going to take a picture and send it to her. Just to rub it in," She cheerily said as she whipped out her phone.

Helga had spied on the sleeping infant who hadn't so much as cracked a squint at all the bustle around her. Must have been nice to sleep that good. And she was _cute._ Too cute for her own good. She got passed around to everybody before the blonde felt herself getting nudged by Phoebe, "Want to hold her?"

"Sure," Helga agreed, setting her wine glass down on an end table before playing pass the potato with little Hannah. She had lost count of how many babies she'd held at that point. Did her friends really have _that_ many kids? What were they up to at that point? Eight? Seemed right. And she may have been the resident grouch for all intents and purposes, but even she never passed up the chance to hold a fresh one. Hannah was fresh, new baby smell and all. Brian leaned over beside her and peered at the little pink bundle in Helga's hands.

"Look at you," He said to the baby.

"I know. I just want to...squeeze her too tightly," His wife laughed, "Yes I do," She cooed at Hannah, once again, her mom voice catching the attention of her husband, who for like third or fourth time in his life, was completely enamored by it. He couldn't figure out why, other than it was just such a lovely, sweet tone of voice. Candid Helga perhaps? She liked kids. Whether she wanted to fully admit it to him or not. He was _well_ aware that behind that tough exterior was a _big_ softy.

Or maybe he was really starting to realize just how drawn to the idea of a family with her he was too.

* * *

 **Tuesday Night**

Helga had officially hit a writer's block. She thought so anyway, but maybe that wasn't the right term for it. It was more or less like, the original arc and plot she had for her story, that she was at least halfway through writing, just didn't make much sense anymore. Like it made sense, but just not to her. Which was a little unnerving because she had so much of herself wrapped up in the main character of the story. Perhaps it was time to walk away from it for a little bit, and take a break from her usual writing routine.

"Why the long face?" Helga turned to see Brian, cross armed and leaning against the door frame, while wearing a fitting smirk.

His wife quietly chuckled, running a hand through her hair before shrugging, "My book is being annoying."

"Why?" He also laughed. Strange answer.

"The idea that made perfect sense to me five years ago, is slowly making less sense."

Brian sort of felt bad that he had no idea what her book, that spent a good bit of time on each week, was _even_ about. Did that make him a terrible husband? Yeah, he thought so, "I know this is pretty lousy of me, but...what's it about? I have no idea."

Helga waved him off, "It's not like I ever talk about it. It's part of my quest for tenner, so is it's _kind of_ work related. It's sort of a fantastical adventure. A girl stumbles across a library that contains everybody's destiny. Anyway she starts trying to change the order of things and it creates chaos and everything must be restored."

"Who owns the library?" Brian asked, leaving Helga to quirk an eyebrow, "They are clearly the villain."

"How? The library contains the order. In a way, _she's_ the villain creating the chaos."

"Or the library is the prison that everybody's lives are chained too," Brian pointed out as he walked over behind the her chair, leaned in and wrapped his arms around, gazing at the wall of text on her computer, "What if instead of creating chaos, she is liberating everybody by allowing them to make their own choices."

Helga smirked, reaching her hand up and placing it on the side of the face as she tilted her head to look at him, "Anarchist."

"Well, I'm just going off of your brief plot description." He teased, before reaching into his back pocket and bringing a nice white envelop, the type that suggested a card within, in front of her, "I got you something." When Helga skeptically stared at it, he went on with, "Early birthday present."

"Don't you know that birthdays are unmentionables after thirty?" She chuckled before plucking the pristine thing from his fingers, sliding open the tab to pull the birthday card from within. Her birthday wasn't until next week, so she couldn't quite figure out why he didn't wait until then. When she opened the card a folded up piece of paper fell forward, which she promptly opened, "A wine weekend in Napa Valley," She read aloud.

"We're going to stay in a villa on the Vineyard and go on tastings for three straight days," Brian explained in an excited tone.

"And Helga was never seen again," She chuckled. "I love it. You couldn't wait until next week to give me this though?"

"Well, I wanted to make sure you could take that first Friday in April off in time. And I couldn't just say, hey take it off because...well, I know you and you would have asked too questions that I didn't feel like making up answers to."

Helga snorted, "Sheesh, I'm not _that_ bad."

"You are."

 _"Please."_ She rolled her eyes. Also _clearly_ he didn't understand college level academia at all, "You know I could cancel a class ten minutes before I was suppose to be there and nobody would bat an eye right?" She had never done that, unless she had had to but, still.

"No," He chuckled, leaning in and kissing her just below the ear in that spot that always prompted a cascading wave of goosebumps to shower down her body, "I guess I do now though."

When Helga felt one of his hands start to creep she grabbed it, thwarting it of its intended travels, very disappointed that she had to make such an awful move, "Down boy," She grinned, "It's that time of the month for me."

Brian chuckled and pulled away from her neck, looking off for a second as he appeared to think while taking a deep breath. There wasn't much, if anything about her that would deter him from _any_ advances, but that actually _was_ one of them. Still, he couldn't resist having a little fun with her. Turning back to look at her, he had a teasing smirk placed upon his lips before saying, "That mouth isn't bleeding."

And said own mouth fell open on her face while her eyes widened before she playfully shoved his laughing face away with the palm of her hand.

* * *

 **Thursday Trivia Night.**

Helga was an observant person, for the most part. Observant of other people that is. Her own life, maybe not so much, but she would never admit to that in the slightest. For the last few weeks, she had quietly watched Rhonda Wellington Gammelthorp quit her consumption of alcohol without so much as a stutter. Interesting for somebody who was practically a martini whore. Of course, Helga hadn't any room to talk, because God forbid she ever have a glass of water herself, or else the _whole_ gang went into speculation mode. Maybe they were mostly all alcoholics. Maybe that was the bigger problem there. Maybe normal groups of friends never had the problem. She didn't know, because she hadn't any normal friends.

The point was, Rhonda was up to something, and Helga couldn't quite figure out if she was dying, pregnant or on some sort of whole 30 diet, which forced the participant to cut out alcohol, and honestly why go on living that point. With Rhonda, it could be any. Or all!

She'd also noticed Nadine and Patty had been hitting the h20 rather aggressively too but, that wasn't _that_ out of the range of normal. Nadine liked to work out, and it was starting to get warm. And Patty was a casual drinker _at best._ Hell, Helga herself was drinking water like it was going out of style that night because of the day she'd had. She was sure she would get some comments about it, pronto.

Amongst the pre-trivia chatting, Rhonda did the ole, utensil tap on a glass to get everybody's attention, like the dramatic individual she was. "So, darlings," She looked around at everybody, before looking at her BFF, "Nadine and I have something exciting to announce!" She said it a chirpy voice.

"Are you lesbians together?" Sid asked, prompting the predictable slap to the back of the head from his wife. "Ow!" He turned to Sheena, "What? I was just asking!"

"That'd be _hot,_ " Harold said, ducking a little in case Patty decided to smack him too. She didn't, but her eyes were.

"You are such pigs," Rhonda rolled her eyes, before getting back to her announcement with a gleeful smile, and a clap of her hands, "We're expecting our second children this November!"

"Well, that's _hilarious_..." Harold remarked with a chuckle.

"Why?" Nadine began skeptically eyeballing him.

"We're expecting too," Patty held both of her hands up, fielding her own set of laughs.

Cue excited chatter, and Helga feeling like she was an absolute _spy_ master. In the midst of all that baby babbling, she chuckled before deciding to insert herself into the mix, "Can we stop for a moment and appreciate the fact that _I_ noticed that all of you heifers had suspiciously stopped drinking several weeks ago and I minded my own damn business instead of jumping to conclusions." She said all high and mighty.

But if she were looking for a pat on the back, she wasn't going to get one. Instead she got Rhonda thinning her eyes at her, focused solely on the highly suspicious water glass clutched in her hand, "Is there some reason why _you_ are drinking water?"

Helga deadpanned and rolled her eyes, unwilling to explain that all she'd had was a cup a coffee and two beers all day while she and Brian hung out in the backyard, enjoying the spring weather, and now she felt like she had to spend the next eight hours re-hydrating from her lack of water intake. "Unbelievable. No, I am still a barren husk, thank you very much," She snidely replied, to the chuckles of Brian.

Harold elbowed Lila with a laughing smirk while saying, "The gang is having a litter again, you got any baby fever yet?"

Lila laughed from her gut, before shaking her head, "Oh so..."

" _Not_ ," Her husband finished for her.

"Oh, that was fresh y'all," Gerald commented with an approving nod.

* * *

 **Later.**

Arriving home, Helga walked into the kitchen, flipping on the light and heading to the fridge for a seltzer water as Brian trailed behind her, plopping his keys down on the counter top. He watched his wife pop the top on her LaCroix before leaning back against the counter, and taking a sip. "You think they planned that?" He asked.

"Rhonda and Nadine?" Helga replied, to the verifying nod of her husband, "Pssh, _absolutely._ They probably wanted to keep all of their kids close in age."

Brian laughed, "That seems like it would be a weird conversation," He couldn't imagine planning something so personal with any of his guys friends. But maybe women were different in that regard.

"Yeah," Helga nodded, " _Definitely_ not something I can ever imagine discussing with anybody but the guy involved. Even with Phoebe that would be awkward."

She watched as her husband exhaled, a resting smile on his face as he appeared to be in a little bit of his own thoughts after that. "What is that going to be, like eleven kids total now?" They were the only ones that were still childless, except for Arnie and Lila, who didn't want any.

"Something like that."

"Hmm. It really gets your biological clock ticking a little louder."

Helga snorted, "Last time I checked, you didn't have a clock."

"Says who?" He grinned.

"Says science. You could literally be ninety and still father children."

Brian chuckled as he rolled his eyes at the notion, "I'm flattered that you think I'll still be so able-bodied at that age. Or that anybody would still want to bang me. I'm also going out on a limb here and assuming you're dead since I'm banging other women?"

Seltzer nearly went dribbling down Helga's chin as she laughed, "If we make it to ninety, consider it a hall pass."

"Great. I have something to look forward to."

She smirked and shrugged, "Hey, just pointing out that time is on your side, bucko," Taking another big swig from her can, she then headed towards the door, preparing to call it a night.

"Doesn't mean I want to be ninety raising kids."

Helga halted at the threshold of the kitchen and the living room, turning back around with a eyebrow raised high and a curious look upon her face. "..have you got some baby fever?"

Brian scowled, but didn't really notice the caught grin that wouldn't remove itself from his lips, "Can guys get that?" He played a little dumb.

Helga shrugged, a lopsided smirk also ever present on her face, "I don't know. You tell me."

"Well, there is _clearly_ something in the water around here, wouldn't you say?" He walked up to her, still smirking as he peered down at her while crossing his arms.

"Seems to be," She agreed, "Criminey, probably not the best night to be so dehydrated, hmm?" She teased, winking at him as she tipped the can to her lips, turning and heading off to their room.

It was a reply that was obviously meant to be a clever joke, but while it had indeed made him chuckle, it had also gotten a few cogs _really_ churning in his mind _and_ his gut.

It certainly made more sense to him how concerned he was about their house being too small after watching neighbors, _plus toddler_ , move, and why he'd been mulling over when and how to bring up the idea of moving to her.

After all, they _had_ agreed to be open to...leaving the door open when it came to kids.

* * *

 **April - Birthday Getaway**

Helga had never been to the Napa Valley wineries. Or Napa Valley at all. Helga may never come back from _said_ Napa Valley wineries. Yes, as if their need to play rock, paper, scissors to decide on mundane crap wasn't bad enough, she was now becoming fearful that a war of who could outrip the other was simmering just beneath the surface. She gave him a rocking ski trip. He turned around and gave her a crazy nice weekend in the valley. They were staying in a villa, with the wine tasting room downstairs, a beautiful courtyard, scenic walking trails around the country side to die for.

It was...the ultimate long weekend getaway.

And they wasted no time trying to see and do _everything._

The pair sat at an old oak bar of the wine tasting area, several glasses full of wine samples sitting in from of them. For the first time in his life, Brian could tell the difference between different wines. He'd gone from being strictly a beer and whisky guy, to a wine-o in a matter of months. All because of that girl he really fancied those days. Not that she forced it on him. She didn't care _what_ he drank. They had taken a break from all the sampling, cleansing the pallet with some espresso before continuing on. Brian had pulled out his phone and was going through it, before holding it out and snapping a picture of their row of glasses, presumably to post on some social media site. Helga lazily glanced at hers sitting on the counter, not being used, which was doing absolutely nothing for her in her quest to take more pictures of things.

She supposed she would just have zero memories to look back fondly on. While she wasn't looking at things to remember through a lens like she should have been, she did find herself focusing her attention on that husband of hers. Observing him. Really appreciating him. And still being inwardly amazed at how ridiculously _sexy_ she found him. Also, there was just something about _looking_ at him that made her happy inside. Consciously she was still refusing to acknowledge what was happening to her, but below the surface, in the dense layers of her subconscious, she knew what was going on, "You like looking at me, don't you?" He said, never looking away from his phone as he called her out.

Though a stroke of mild panic did run through her over being caught, Helga rolled her eyes in a classic fashion, unwilling to admit _anything_ to him, "I looked at you for two seconds," She playfully argued.

Whatever Brian had been doing, he'd finished because he put his phone back down on the bar top and gave Helga an unconvinced look, "I catch you staring at me all the time."

Damn. Maybe she wasn't as subtle as she thought, "Is that right?"

Her husband leaned in and ran the palm of one of his hands over her knee, reaching over and taping the home button of her phone with the other. The phone illuminated and with it, the background photo that was of him throwing the Shaka sign on the aspen mountain, "Yeah. Why else am I your background image?" He dug in deeper, smiling like a smart-ass because, because he knew he was right. Despite her best efforts at playing dumb. He really was more observant than she gave him credit for.

"Wouldn't it be more suspicious if I _never_ looked at you?"

"Probably," Brian chuckled, "I like looking at you too."

"Then how come our fire pit is _your_ background?"

At that Brian snorted.

* * *

After spending a day touring the winery and vineyards, they had opted to walk into town to a tavern for dinner. _Walk._ The tiny town on the outskirts of the vineyard was _adorable._ When they stepped through the thick wooden doors, planks held together by thick iron brackets, they were greeted by a cheery hostess.

Surprisingly, or not, it was packed. "Hey, how long's the wait?" Helga asked, supposing that it didn't matter anyway. Everywhere would have a wait? Also, they walked there.

"About twenty minutes."

"Yeah that's fine."

"Name?"

"Miller."

"Alright, we'll call you when a table is ready."

Helga looked up at her husband, "Do you want to grab a drink at the bar while we wait?"

"Yep," He agreed and the pair moved around the hostess both to grab two chairs on the very edge of the also crowded bar. Helga sat down, but Brian leaned in and said, "I've got to go use the bathroom. Just get me whatever you get." He said before walking off.

While she waited, for the bartender and Brian, she buried her face in her phone, again reminding herself that she needed to take pictures of things. _Especially_ these trips they went on. Her husband had been snapping away the entire time. She supposed they would just have to look back fondly on his pictures when they were ninety and he was begging for his hall pass.

While she wasn't paying attention, some guy slid into the chair that was meant for Brian. It was busy, and Helga hardly wanted to be a jerk by telling the guy that it was her husband's, despite the fact that there was nothing that suggested somebody _was_ sitting there. Or going to. Oh well. she supposed Brian would just have to stand. "Hey," She heard this guy say, and for some reason, she got that awful feeling that he was talking to her. When she looked up from her phone, she noticed that his eyes were indeed, _right_ on her. _Great._ Where was her 6'3" skeeze ball repellent when she needed him.

"Hi..." She said as cordially as she could. Maybe he just wanted directions, or a suggestion on what was good to eat. Highly unlikely, and she knew it. No man tried to talk to a woman at a bar just to get menu suggestions. Or even a _date_ for that matter. No, no, she'd been on the dating scene long enough to know exactly how bar guys worked.

"I'm Brandon." She nodded, but didn't bother telling him her name. Not that that stopped him or anything, "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Nope. You cannot."

"Oh come on," He insisted in a groan of a voice. As if _that_ was going to convince her, "Just one drink."

"Damn, I'm gone to the bathroom for five minutes and the vultures swoop," Brian said, walking up behind Helga, staring the dude down, having caught the tail end of his plead and put the pieces together himself, "Scram buddy, you're bothering my wife," He pointed away with his thumb.

"Well, you heard the man, scram, bucko," Helga gave the guy a smart ass smile and twiddled her fingers at him in a cutesy wave. Brandon held his hands up in defeat and slid from the chair, moving on down to the other end of the bar, appearing to insert himself into a girl group she'd seen staying in their villa. "Creep." She muttered.

Brian slunk into the newly vacant chair, "Bar fly," Sparing the guy one last look before refocusing on his wife, "You know you could have done the ole' ring flash to scare him off."

Helga laughed, "I honestly forgot."

"That's a shame," Brian playfully rolled his eyes, "I bought you those nice, shiny things so that you could ward off bottom dwellers like that, and you miss your golden opportunity to take them on their maiden voyage."

His wife snorted, rolling her own eyes, "Yes, that was the _exact_ reason you got them."

"It's why I got mine, seeing as you're so afraid of other women stealing my organs. Say..." He trailed off, leaning in with a teasing smile jumping to his face as he brought his index finger to his lip as if an idea just occurred to him.

"Don't even," Helga smirked, knowing what he was about to tease her about.

"What? You don't think he could have been after your organs?" He laughed.

"Doubtful. Black market organ harvesting seems to be a women's game, though I'm positive he is hoping to get _'up in some guts'_ later on tonight," Helga laughed, subtly eyeballing creeper Brandon from afar.

That prompted a snort from her husband, "That might be the crudest thing I've ever heard you say."

"Is it though?" Helga thinned her eyes at him, a playful smile very much present on her amused face. "He probably uses that phrase too."

"That guy?" Brian chuckled, "Pfft...that guy owns a t-shirt that says 'orgasm donor' that he can't wait to wear to the pool in his complex every summer. And you know how many people he's given an orgasm to?"

"None." Helga was almost beside herself with laughter at his made up backstory for this guy.

"One. _Himself_."

"Yeah, you're probably right," His wife finally managed to get out between laughs, "You know, if I remember correctly, your condo had a pool. Are you sure you weren't describing yourself a bit there?" She teased back.

"I mean, if _I'd_ had an orgasm donor shirt to sport to the pool, at least it wouldn't have been a lie," He copped back smugly.

" _Oh_ , zingers," Helga playfully chided as the bartender finally _made_ it over, wearing a super apologetic look on her face.

"Sorry about the wait, guys. What can I get you?"

"Two cabernets. House." Helga replied with a smile. House being, the vineyard they were staying at.

"You got it. Do you guys want a menu?"

Helga glanced at Brian, "You want to eat at the bar or wait for a table?"

"I don't mind eating here."

That was fine with her, "Yeah, give us a menu," The bartender nodded, handed them over two menus and busied herself pouring their drinks. The married couple began flipping through, Brian heading immediately for the red-meat section, as usual. Their drinks were sat in front of them, and when Helga went to reach for hers, she caught sight of creeper again. "uh oh," She chuckled, subtly leaning around her husband to get a better view of Brandon chatting up the girl party he'd inserted himself into on the other end of the bar. Probably a bachelorette party if she had to guess, "I think he might have one on the hook."

Brian, less subtly, turned in his chair and took a look for himself, before laughing and resuming facing his wife, "I hope she's ready to have the most unremarkable five minutes of her life later."

"You are on fire tonight," Helga chortled, "That's Helga level savagery."

Her husband snorted, "Jee, where did I learn that from?" He rolled his eyes while smiling. "You ever pick a guy up at a bar? Outside of booty call—what's his name? James?"

" _Jared._ And _again_ it _wasn't_ a booty call." Helga insisted as she thinned her eyes at the statement, bringing her wine to her lips.

" _How?_ "

"Um, because I didn't go _looking_ for him, that's how. I _ran_ into him at the rooftop bar."

"Alright, we'll exclude him, I guess," He made a show of rolling his eyes, acting as if he were having to go out of his way to make an exception, "So then, have you?"

"Yeah. Once." She admitted before taking another sip from her glass.

"Oh, how'd that go?" Brian asked in surprise.

"The most unremarkable _,"_ She held up her index finger at him, effectively silencing his already opening mouth, " _Seven_ minutes of my life."

Brian snorted before giving her a sympathizing look, "Yikes. Two whole extra minutes."

Helga laughed, pretty sure she had at least a smidgen of a blush over her cheeks, "It was pretty bad," She popped her eyebrows once before intently focusing her blue eyes in on her husband, intending to move on, "What about you?"

"Picked up a guy? No."

She rolled her eyes, "Ha... _ha._ "

"Never picked a girl up either."

" _Really?_ " His wife eyes widened with surprise. And a healthy does of skepticism.

"Yeah," He nodded, "I mean besides the time I went home with that crazy girl from Tinder."

"Color me _shocked_ ," Helga admitted, "No offense."

Brian shrugged, "I don't know. I was always scared."

"Of what?"

"Of getting my organs stolen," He jokingly replied, to the bemused eye roll of his cute little wife.

"You guys ready to order?" The bar tender slid back over.

Without skipping a beat, Brian looked from Helga to young lady behind the bar and asked, "How's the porter house?"

"I'd say pretty good seeing as it's our most popular menu item."

"I want that then. Medium-rare."

* * *

"That was good. Seriously...I've never had a steak that good," Brian remarked as they walked out of the tavern a little over an hour later.

Helga thinned her eyes up at him, having had to listen at him rave after every bite during the _entire_ dinner. "Please. _Go on,_ " She sarcastically replied, rolling her eyes, but smiling anyway. Brian reached out and offered for her to take his hand as they walked back down the path back towards their villa. It wasn't a far walk. Maybe half a mile. And a nice walk off after _such_ a good meal. As they were strolling through the little cottage town, comprised of mostly eateries and small little bars and outdoor bistros, they came across the light flutter of music from an acoustic set in the twilight of the evening. "I haven't heard this song in a minute," Brian excitedly chirped and Helga felt him gently start to swing their arms before he stopped them in front of the outdoor bar area, where a lone acoustic guitarist was serenading a small audience.

Brian recoiled her up to him in a slow dance kind of stance, and for the first time ever, in all the months he had gotten her to begrudgingly dance with him, she didn't fight or whine about. "I was a quick, wet boy...diving too deep for coins," Smiling, he began quietly singing along to her. Helga chuckled at him, shaking her head as he continued, "All of your street light eyes, wide on my plastic toys..." He swayed them around in a small circle.

She was fairly sure that people would probably think they were _drunk._ But honestly, for the first time in her life, she didn't mind. And it was wine country, so it probably wouldn't have been _that_ unusual anyway. Then he threw in something new. The slow twirl. Helga couldn't help but laugh when he pulled her back to him. "I will make you appreciate dancing, yet," He vowed in a teasing voice. He slowly spun her once more, pulling her around so that her back was flush with his front, right as they noticed an old couple walking up path.

Helga felt herself turn about as red as a tomato when she caught their eyes on them dancing in the middle of the path beside an outdoor pub concert. She'd expected some funny looks but they themselves just laughed before the gentleman leaned in to the young pair as they passed by and said, "Never stop having fun together. It's the biggest secret to marriage." Winked and kept on walking with his wife.

Brian and Helga could only look at one another before laughing. He let her go and they began walking away, each taking one more glance back at the old couple strolling in the opposite direction. "Look, that's probably us when we're ninety," Brian remarked.

Helga snorted, "Oh my God..." Rolling her eyes as she took his hand, re-lacing their fingers, "They were mid-sixties at best," She corrected.

"So...you _don't_ think he's hall pass age yet?" Brian teased.

"Hey, if you look that good at ninety, there will be no hall pass for you," She jokingly replied back.

"So I'm only allowed to have one if you don't want me anymore," He verified their fictitious agreement as they slowly walked on. The light beginning to turn purple around them as the sun officially began to call it a night. The path lamps had already flipped on, preventing total darkness.

"I mean, yeah pretty much," She snickered, "And if I'm pretty sure nobody else would want you either."

" _Wow_ ," Brian replied in that tone that she just loved, "Thankfully, I never asked for one to begin with. You offered."

"Only because you were concerned about your non-existent clock."

They left it at that, and chose to spend the next few minutes of their walk just observing everything. Or in Brian's case, _thinking_. About halfway back to their villa, they came upon a gazebo, built off the side of the path, on the edge of the vineyard, elegantly lit with hanging lights that gave it a beautiful golden glow in the bruised spring twilight.

"Jeez, everything about this place is meant to be as romantic as possible, isn't it?" Was the first thought that came out of Helga's mouth as they stopped in front of it.

"I mean, can you blame them?" Brian replied, as they both stepped inside, "This is wedding country."

Helga walked to the far end, over looking the vineyard and hopped up on the fence to sit. "It _is_ a great place to get place to get married," She admitted, running her hands along the wooden handrail she sat on.

Brian walked up and stood in front of her, looking out over the darkened orchard, "We should have gotten married here."

At that, his wife snorted, "I think if you had suggested that, I would have divorced you before we had even made it official," She proclaimed, recalling just how awkward it had been to just do a courthouse thing. She couldn't imagine doing a full blown wedding eight months ago.

"That'd probably be a state of Washington first."

"We could retire here. You know, when we're ninety," She smirked, "I'd say we could move here now, but I think, as crazy as it sounds, we would _actually_ miss those assholes we call friends."

Brian snickered, "Just a little."

"And who are about to overload us with a second wave of adorable children."

Yep. Their friends were moving on to kid two. Brian finally realized in that moment, that _that_ was what really had been bugging him as of late. It wasn't just that their friends were having kids, or that they were getting older. It was that their friends were transitioning to child _two_...and he— _they_ —didn't even have _one_. As somebody that had always pictured himself being a family guy, it had really started to eat at him.

The logic driven half of his brain knew it made more sense to wait until he could comfortably tell her that he loved her, but life didn't always go in chronological order. They certainly hadn't. Hello marriage before relationship! He felt compelled to ask though. They topic had organically been broached, so he couldn't not take advantage of it. If he didn't, he would be kicking himself to no ends, and what better time to do it then while on a trip when he knew she would be more receptive to something new. "So I've been thinking..." Suddenly came out of his mouth, though it sounded as casual as jazz while he ran his hands along the outside of her thighs.

"About...?"

Brian grinned. He knew better than to go for the throat with her. "I know that you love your house and all but...what do you think of selling it and maybe _us_ getting something bigger?"

Helga quietly snorted, running one of her hands along his arm. Real estate? He was thinking about real estate? "You are still salty about losing your condo in rock, paper, scissor, aren't you?" Literally, he would never let it go. She was now sure of that.

"Yes, I am. And I will never not be until we are on neutral ground, woman," He laughed, "No, I just think...we could get something with more of room and work on filling it up. Something we can grow into." His point was valid. Her house was small, but it had been _plenty_ big enough for her, which was all she had in mind when she had made her big girl purchase. And even with him and his stuff there, it didn't feel crammed to her. But it wouldn't take _much_ for that to change. She would totally admit that.

"And what do you suppose we fill it with?" Still, she played a little coy with him, trying to figure out what or if he had an ulterior motive with all of it. Besides getting on neutral ground.

"Oh I don't know. I'd like something with a garage or…at least a two car driveway. My vinyl collection is getting out of control, your book collection has reached _library_ status, I'm sure Rhonda has more crap to leave around that we'll have to put somewhere," He shrugged, "Maybe...a pet or two."

His wife scowled, "You want a pet? Since when are you into that?"

"Hey, we had a family cat growing up."

"I don't know how I feel about cats." After coming close to adopting twelve in one sitting, she considered herself to have cat PTSD.

"We'll try a dog then."

"So we're going to buy a bigger house, to indulge our tendency to hoard things we're interested in...

"Yep."

"And to delve into pet ownership."

"And maybe..." Brian inhaled before taking a giant leap of faith, "Maybe have some little ones too," He finished with a warm smile, feeling more bold that ever despite of his heart about to flop out of his chest. He was in love. He was in love, he was thirty and he really wanted _everything_. The house, the picket fence, a bunch of babies, the good, the bad, the ugly, the lemonade on the porch when they were _ninety._ It _all_. For somebody who had _liked_ that they were taking their time with absolutely _everything_ , he suddenly felt like they couldn't move fast enough. But he'd obviously been having to pump the brakes on his eager excitement since his self realization in the mountains.

If it were up to him, he'd retain a realtor, schedule a contractor that specialized in picket fences, adopt the cutest animal he could find from the shelter, flush the birth control and then look into a financial advisor about retirement goals that involved lemonade and porches that very _night._

But he was a patient guy. He really was.

Helga slyly smiled at him, catching his clever way of peeking through a door they had agreed to leave open on Thanksgiving day. Of course he was doing more than peaking at that point, he was pushing it open with his hand and demanding a face to face. She got it though. Considering where he was at. Happily married and apparently ready for that suburban dad life. "You _do_ have some baby fever _don't_ you?" She'd kind of figured before then, especially when he started talking about biological clocks and such.

"Well, I mean...there _is_ something in the water at home."

"There is." Helga would be reluctant to admit that she had gotten a touch of the fever from their friends _too_. Something that she'd never in her life _had_. Probably because the last time she had been in a serious relationship— _Arnold_ —the idea of a family hadn't even been a _thing._ She'd been too worried about getting her master's degree, dating her dream guy and doing early twenties crap to ever _want_ an anchor like _kids._ Besides, her friends were her family. Furthermore, she had considered herself _completely_ unqualified to raise children anyway, considering the type of family she'd spawned from. At about twenty-eight was when she thought she _might_ want kids, even if the prospect of it seemed unlikely— _no Arnold_ —as well as still feeling like she probably still hadn't any business _being_ a parent.

Now she was thirty-one and _definitely_ wanting them, married to a guy who she could _have_ them with, and he was _absolutely_ the guy she could break the bad family cycle with. He _wasn't_ a guy who she was just _winging_ things with anymore. _All_ the boxes were checked. She could actually have the _normal_ family she always wanted. "That little Hannah _is_ a cute baby," She said, not sure why she said that verses everything she was thinking.

"I think _our_ kids would be cuter, but I'm biased." Brian said in a low voice as he leaned in and kissed the side of her cheek, and the way he paused, obviously deliberating on what he was about to say, made her think that he was actually going to say _it._ Going to actually drop the 'L' word on her, and honestly, she thought she might have actually been prepared to hear it without shutting down, and that scared the hell out of her the most. But he didn't. "It wouldn't ever be like your family, you know that right?"

She did. Deep down. Even if she often had moments of doubt about herself. Still, it warmed her soul to hear him express such faith in her human abilities. Nodding she murmured, "I know."

"Well? What do you say?" Helga tilted her head to capture his mouth, lingering her lips on his until he finally asked, "Is that a yes or your way of getting out of saying no?" A smile was forming on his lips as he tried to remain optimistic.

Helga chuckled before taking a deep breath. It scared her. It did. Because things got a little bit more real with him everyday, but what else could she say to that except for… "Yes. _But..._ let's buy a house first." Thankfully she recognized the fact that she had to be the one to insert a level of planning and organization into it. He'd presented a plan, but she knew how it would go if she _didn't_ enforce it. Looking at you, _fire pit._ Of course she was a little concerned that he'd even _heard_ that last part because he'd started beaming from ear to ear after the word 'yes'. Placing her hand on his chest, she pushed him back so she could hop off of the fence, "And just so we're _clear_ ," She pointed up at him with her index, wearing a warm smile upon her face, "I said house _first._ Now let's go. It's starting to get chilly."

"I know, I know. I heard you."

* * *

While she may have been getting some serious shivers by the time they got back to their room, Brian was a sweaty mess. They _both_ insisted on him grabbing a shower. Apparently he could still sweat on a night that a light jacket was needed. Though he was a little hot natured, he blamed it on the nerves and then being ramped up about the future. He'd just asked the girl who he was in love with—but hadn't told yet—to have a family with him. Like reproduce and raise some tiny humans into adulthood with him. And she said _yes._ Albeit an asterisked 'yes' because some other things had to happen _first_ , namely a bigger house, but _still._ It was a _yes._

While he was quick bathing, Helga was focusing on everything _but_ the conversation they'd just had. She knew if she began thinking about it too hard, she'd start to freak herself out, and she didn't want to do that, because she wasn't ready for that internal discussion yet. It felt like the _right_ direction to go with him, she was happy about it, and for the time being, that was all that mattered.

Wandering to her suitcase of clothes, pulled our and threw on one of the oversized long sleeve sleeping shirts she'd packed—because she was a total freakin' _girl_ —and was preparing to follow it with some sleep shorts before she laughed at an idea that randomly popped into her head. And the only reason it did was because she'd recently seen it on a buzzfeed, 'top ten most famous movie scenes' list or some crap like that. And by recent, she meant, right before creeper had honored her with is unwanted presence. Looking back at the open bathroom door, her eyebrow perked and she decided to just do it. He'd at appreciate the reference. _If_ he got it. If not...well, at least he'd appreciate sexiness of it.

It was a win/win.

Instead of pulling the shorts on, she tossed them back into the suitcase and then slipped off her underwear, discarding them before skipping to the foot of the bed and sitting down, crossing her legs, left over right, leaning back on her palm and browsing her phone until he was finished.

A few minutes later, the water shut off and Brian stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, "You know, that was really one of the _best_ steaks I've ever had." He stopped when he saw her sitting on the edge of the bed, her attention in her phone.

"You only mentioned it four times during dinner."

"Well, it was."

"We can eat there again tomorrow, if you want."

Brian perked up, "Could we?"

At that, Helga uncrossed her legs, pushing them apart enough to where she absolutely knew he could see between them before smoothly recrossing them, right over left, while throwing her cell phone onto the bed spread and leaning back on both of her arms, " _Sure._ "

Predictably, her husband's attention was _thoroughly_ peaked, an eyebrow inching higher on his forehead, "Did you just…Basic Instinct me?"

Yep, he got it. Helga slyly smirked, dropping her eyes into a half lidded form, "Maybe. What are you going to do about it?"

Brian quietly chuckled, glancing down at the floor as he inhaled and adjusted the towel around his waist a bit, "Kiss every single _inch_ of that gorgeous body of yours..." His eyes finally fluttered up, locking with hers, "Before hard fucking you against that headboard so well you wont even care that the neighbors hear you scream."

Helga felt her mouth abruptly dry out, and a wave of tingles go shooting across her body just thinking about him doing any and _all_ of that. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she was still trying to figure out where this _unbelievably_ sexy man came from, because God have mercy, she'd never had another guy turn her on as much has he did on a regular basis. "I think I saw that girl group in the courtyard earlier today." She pointed out as she once again uncrossed her legs, "Maybe creeper is staying next door tonight…"

Her husband snickered as he walked over, "Let's hope the walls are thin, then," He said in a deeper voice before leaning in and soundly kissing her.

* * *

 **Ireland.**

Arnold stepped off the plane for the last leg of going home tour. Two weeks he had until he'd be catching the long, and permanent, flight back to Hillwood. He even had a pharmacist job interview lined up. It was something that actually excited him. The idea of returning to a normal job atmosphere. In that case, a hospital setting. If he got the position of course.

He still couldn't wait to see Helga. The thought of her continuously kept a smile on his face.

* * *

 **Hillwood.**

'Just sit down and look at this house with me, please,' He said, motioning to his lap. 'It'll just take a minute.' he said. All one hundred percent a ploy. Though she was no innocent bystander in it either. She had _not_ been looking for her chapstick as she claimed when she had wandered into his vinyl room, where he sat at his desk, browsing Zillow on his laptop. And of course, once she took him up on using his knee as a seat, his hands and mouth did what they did best: not keep to themselves when in her company. How _ever_ it got started, her only concern, and fleeting at that, was that his old office chair didn't have the will power to hold the two of them. Judging by how badly it groaned as he reclined back in it when their make-out got heavy, the fear was more than valid.

But buttons had started to come undone, so if it broke it broke. Both were too lazy and caught up to take it to the desk...or floor...or perfectly comfortable bed down the hallway. Amid the whines of an inanimate object, the annoying and intrusive babble of another device perked their ears.

Brian's phone had begun vibrating on the desk. "Don't answer it," Helga groaned against his lips, feeling him trying to look over at it.

"I have to at least _see_ who it is," Her husband rotated the chair so he could see, sighing in disappointment when he saw that it was Sergio. "It's my boss. I've got to take it." He gave her an apologetic look as he scooped up the phone, politely answering it. Helga, smirked, leaning back in to kiss him on his jaw line, attempting to keep the momentum and mood going as she moved to his neck.

Brian shut his eyes for a moment, exhaling before turning the phone away and whispering, "Just give me ten minutes." His quiet tone was less of a demand and more of a beg for her to have mercy.

And Helga couldn't have felt less sorry for him if she tried. Truly. All of the times he'd made her late to places because he couldn't get out from between her legs. Not that she had _cared_ , but he knew what he had been doing. And it had been a source of _entertainment_ for him.

So maybe it was pay back time. Maybe she'd give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe she'd make him _'suffer'_ through his important phone call.

Truthfully, if it hadn't been for a guy quitting at the airport, and Sergio telling him that he would call and they discuss a new flight schedule that night—he'd completely forgotten—he would have just ignored the call. "Yeah...that sounds good." He replied into the phone, desperately trying to focus on what was being said to him and less on his wife having zero disregard to him having work to deal with at that moment. Things got real interesting when she slid out of his lap and to the floor, perching herself between his knees with a very devious look on her face.

He knew that look. It meant that things were about to go in a _great_ direction for him because he was about to get some _special_ attention. Which was bad. Real bad! That couldn't happen while he was trying to have an important phone call. Was she mad?!

 _'No'_ He desperately mouthed at her as she popped him out of his useless jeans, them doing _zip_ to hinder her at the moment. Of course, as usual, he could whine for her to stop all he wanted, but he had yet to muster a single muscle to physically stop her to _date_. He couldn't take his eyes off her though, and then when he felt her mouth, that was _it_. His eyes closed and his head fell back against the chair.

"Mmhm," He bit his lip, having no idea what Sergio was saying at that point.

* * *

 **Friday.**

Helga was packing up from her last class of the day before heading out to meet Phoebe for an early dinner at their new favorite spot—the one with the killer bruschetta. Brian had a night flight so she was baching it that night anyway. She'd remembered her pre-planned pop quiz for that day, and though she didn't really feel like grading papers that night, she definitely had a reputation to uphold, and her 102 class wasn't getting off the hook _again._

Freshmen were like sharks, they smelt a little blood and they'd attack like the desperate, and cornered wild animals they were. While she was shoving said quiz papers into her bag—a few that she knew had answers she would be sparing a few eyeballs at—she caught sight of the slip of paper she'd filled out a little while ago and had never turned in.

Her name change paperwork. She'd shoved it in there so she wouldn't lose it. Also so that there was no chance of him finding it with the intent of letting it sit until the right time struck her.

She'd say that it had struck her. In Napa Valley when she'd agreed to some pretty big life plans that should have left her quaking in her boots. And it didn't. That was her sign that it was time. It was time to go all in.

Helga illuminated her phone, checking the time and seeing that she had about two hours before she had to meet Phoebe. Time she was otherwise going to spend doing nothing at home or maybe grading those quizzes. It was probably just enough time to get all of her documents together and get it submitted to start the ball rolling on officially becoming a Miller.

Arguably, a better use of time.

* * *

Like the champ she was, Phoebe already had a spread of bruschetta waiting on the table when Helga strolled up to the booth, a little late after deciding to swing by the DMV and change _everything_ in one fell swoop. Who knew it was so easy. Perhaps that was why her sister kept doing it.

Do three marriage name changes, get the fourth one free! Helga giggled at that thought.

She had a shiny new drivers license, with her brand spanking new name that she never in her wildest imagination would have guessed she'd be _excited_ to have and she assumed she would be getting her new social security card in the mail at some point.

Criminey. Life was crazy.

"How's it going?" Helga asked in a happier tone than usual as she slid into the booth across from her best friend, hand immediately darting out to grab some appetizer while she sat her bag down.

"Pretty good," Phoebe smiled, "How was wine country?"

"Freakin' fantastic," Helga enthused before shoving food in her mouth, "I'm retiring there. I've decided."

"Really?"

"Hey, what better way to spend the twilight years. Drinking wine and staring at sunsets until I die."

Phoebe chuckled, "Yeah, that sounds like you." Her phone began vibrating harshly on the table before her hand struck out and grabbed it, staring at her text before rolling her eyes behind her specs. "Gerald…" She sighed under her breath before quickly replying and setting it back down, "He is about to drive me up the wall right now."

Helga snickered, reaching for the menu and flipping it open, "What's he up to now?"

"He has baby fever, thanks for our friends," Her friend groaned in irritation, "And, after the twins, I'm done. _Completely._ But he just won't stop talking about it so…I don't know, I'm thinking about just telling him we'll 'see what happens' but not actually go off my birth control." At that Helga snorted, leaving Phoebe to look just slightly ashamed of herself, "Does that make me a bad person?"

"Nah," Helga waved her off, "I think that makes you the responsible party at this point," She offered before resuming her browsing through the menu at hand. "Brian's got it too."

"Oh wow…" Phoebe's eyes widened. Once again Helga appeared completely unbothered by it, of course maybe she was just completely nonplussed. "How's that go—" Or, as Phoebe had come to suspect, maybe there was a certain reason that Helga wasn't already in the hills taking shelter.

"And we're probably going to sell my house and buy a bigger one," Helga nonchalantly turned the page, "I think we're meeting with a realtor this week actually."

Phoebe wasn't exactly sure when her mouth fell open, but it had as she began attempting to cobble together some sort of reply to such an overload of information. Damn Patakis. "Wait, you're selling your house?"

"Yeah."

"You love that house."

Helga sighed, "Yeah, yeah, don't remind me. It's just not big enough."

"Why wouldn't it big eno—" Phoebe stopped, both pieces of information finally having clicked together in her brain. "Oh my goodness…" She said, suddenly feeling like she was about to burst with joy.

"Calm down. We've got to sell and buy a house before _anything_." At that Phoebe sat back int he booth, crossing her arms and giving her friend a smug little stare down. "What?"

"I was right."

"About what?"

"You are in lo—"

"—Hey, hey, hey, _hey!_ " She didn't want to hear it yet.

Phoebe rolled her eyes in a smear of aggravation, "Then why are you doing all of this?" Helga sighed, shutting the menu and leaning back in the booth herself, folding her arms in front of her chest. When she didn't rush to say anything, Phoebe leaned forward and placed her arms on the table. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure," Helga shrugged, already feeling a zip of panic over whatever she had to tell her.

"As your best friend, who has probably observed you more than anybody else in your life…" She began before casting the blonde a warm smile, "You've had an air about you for the last month or more that I haven't seen from you since Arnold was around. You actually look _happy_ again."

"Because I _am_ happy. He makes me happy," Helga admitted in a quieter voice before her eyes flickered back up to her best friend, and a slow forming smile slid across her mouth, "Not…anymore or any less than Arnold did. Which is…kind of crazy because they are _completely_ different from one another but still. I'll confront it all when I'm ready to but right now…I just want us to do our thing."

Phoebe smiled a little bigger at her before nodding, "That's fair," She admitted, agreeing to stop pushing her to admit something out loud. "I'm proud of you." At least she had stopped running from everything. And that was the biggest step she could have possibly taken.

Helga rolled her eyes, "You're _such_ a parental unit."

* * *

 **Week Later.**

Arnold stood at the threshold of the door to his old bedroom in the boarding house, fisting a hand through his sun kissed blonde locks at the completely unexpected problem he'd walked in on. Boxes. Loads, and loads of boxes. Packed full of he didn't even know _what._ Everything that had been his grandparents? Probably. Other renters things? There was a decent possibility of that too.

When he had made plans to move back home, and take stewardship of Sunset Arms from the rental company he'd left in charge, he'd _assumed_ that his childhood room would be fit for him to stay in for a little while. Or, well, at least that was how he remembered it before he left for college. Which, was probably a pretty dumb thought to begin with anyhow. How many years ago was that? Regardless, there would be no way he could get all that junk out by himself, and considering that the rental company had done a decent job at keeping the place at full occupancy—sans his room—the only other option for him was the couch downstairs or a hotel.

The couch was the last place he wanted to bed down for the night. He didn't personally know any of the renters anymore, and the whole thing just seemed awkward to him. He had been all prepared to drag his belongings back out to the street and hail a cab to the Marriott in town when a third option occurred to him.

Helga.

He had big plans to surprise her already. He hadn't anticipated doing it the very moment he arrived back in Hillwood, but he should have investigated the living situation at his boarding house a little better. Or at all. Besides, he knew that once she got over her initial surprise of him being back, and ran out of cuss words to sling at him, she wouldn't say _no_ to him needing a place to say.

Luckily for him, he had her address. He had _everybody's_ address from the Christmas cards he mailed out from Timbuktu every year. Once he made it back down to the bottom of the stairs, he yanked his day planner out from his book bag, flipping to the address portion of it the book, hunting for her name.

* * *

"Whose that lady? Whose that lady," Brian sang as he began leaning against the bathroom door jam, smirking as he watched Helga still messing with her hair in the mirror. " _Sexy_ lady."

His wife shot him a faux glower through her reflection as she ran the flat iron through her hair once more, attempting to suppress the fly aways she had that day. "You're cruising for a bruising mister," She chuckled. Honestly she was about two seconds from just throwing it up into a pony tail and cutting her losses, and if it hadn't been for Brian being nicely dressed in a button down and some slacks, she would have already. She supposed it didn't really matter. They were only going to look at their _very_ first house.

And if there weren't enough going on already, the damn doorbell had to ring. "Who the hell?" Helga growled in a grouchy tone.

"You are always so thrilled at the idea of impromptu guests," Brian teased as he began to walk off to investigate said unannounced guest.

"If you aren't selling girl scout cookies, you don't need to be ringing my doorbell," Helga called after him with a laugh.

The tall guy strolled through their house before yanking the door open to find… "Arnold?"

"Brian?" Arnold stared up at him as equally confused.

"You're back?"

Arnold nodded, "Yeah. Literally, just got into town."

"And you came here?" Brian's brow furrowed. As excited about his friend being back as he wanted to be, he had the sneaking suspicion that him being there, was only for bad intentions.

"Yeah well…the boarding house was…kind of a mess so, uh…" He began giving Brian a peculiar look, "You guys having a get together tonight or something?"

"Um… _no_ , why?"

Arnold shrugged, "Oh I…was just wondering why you're here."

"I live here."

"Oh…" Arnold's face scrunched into another confused expression as he was trying to piece together all of the information he'd been thrown since the door opened, "You guys are rooma—"

Helga, having finally gotten curious enough about who could be at the door, especially after hearing all the continued muffled chatting from the other room, marched to the door, coming up behind her husband and saying, "Sheesh, is it the alarm guy aga—" She full on stopped, almost having her breath taken away by who was standing on her front porch. She blinked a few times, making sure she wasn't imagining it, and completely unaware of the fact that she uttered, "'Eff me." With just barely noticeable amount of irritation in her tone.

Guy hops off a plane and goes _straight_ to the ex-girlfriends house, yeah…there was nothing _good_ about that. Arnold may have been having trouble figuring out _why_ Brian lived there, but Brian wasn't having any trouble figuring out _why_ Arnold was there. From beside his flabbergasted wife, Brian rolled his eyes and muttered nastily, "I'm pretty sure that's why he's here," in reply.

* * *

 **A/N:** Well, well, well…the tension is on. That damn Arnold. How's that going to effect their plans? We shall see…


End file.
